UCSB   L/BRARY 


^ 


^    L^&-&*2~~: 

7 


JOSEPH     ZALMONAH 


BY 

EDWARD    KING 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  GENTLE  SAVAGE"  "THE  GOLDEN  SPIKE"  "MY  PARIS" 
"  A  VENETIAN  LOVER  "  ETC. 


And  the  children  of  Israel  sighed  by  reason  of  the  bondage^ 
and  they  cried,  and  their  cry  came  up  unto  God." 


BOSTON 
LEE  AND   SHEPARD   PUBLISHERS 

10      MILK      STREET 
l894 


COPYRIGHT,  1893,  BT  LEE  A»D  SHEFABD 


Att  Right*  Reserved 


JOSEPH  /AI.M..NAII 


Tmt-armwo  AND  EuprmoTTPtwo  BT 
C.  J.  PJKKBS  ft  SON,  Boeroif 


8.  J.  PAXKIIILL  fc  Co,  PKIKTKBS.  U.  8.  A. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    ENTER  JOSEPH 1 

II.  MALCHA  IN  THE  LAND  OF  PROMISE     ...      13 

III.  BAUMEISTER  is  REPELLED 25 

IV.  THE  WORLD  is  A  WEDDING  .        .        .        .        .      36 

V.  "JUDITH   AND   HOLOFERNUS"           ....         48 

VI.    THE  NIGHT-MARCH 61 

•VII.  THE  PANORAMA  OF  SUFFERING    ....      74 

VIII.    WHEN  THE  Ox  is  DOWN 87 

IX.    THE  PIG  MARKET 99 

X.  WITH  THE  POET  OF  THE  PEOPLE          .  ,     .        .110 

XI.    THE  OBJECT-LESSON 124 

XII.    THE  STORY  OF  SHIPHRAH 138 

XIII.  GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS       .        .        .        .151 

XIV.  THE  HUNGER  PROMENADE 164 

XV.    JOSEPH  AND  BATHSHEBA 177 

XVI.  THE  TRIAL  BY  FIRE 192 

XVII.  THE  SWEATER  SWEATED 204 

XVIII.  THE  MARSEILLAISE  OF  THE  POOR  .  .  .  217 

XIX.  LIGHTNING  IN  CLEAR  SKY 233 

XX.  THE  LIVING  TOMB 246 

XXI.  THE  WONDER-RABBI 260 

XXII.  THE  SWEATERS'  TRIUMPH 275 

XXIII.  THE  WHITE  FAST 288 

XXIV.  JOSEPH  COMES  FORTH 301 

XXV.  PURIM  IN  THE  COLONY  .        .        .        .        .        .313 

XXVI.     THE  GREAT  TEMPTATION 327 

XXVII.     CARRYING  THE  CROSS 340 

XXVIII.    THE  PASSOVER  SUPPER '354 

iii 


JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  I 

ENTER   JOSEPH 

MIKYAM  stood  on  the  high  platform  of  the  Bridge  prom 
enade,  near  the  New  York  side,  clapping  her  hands  with 
childish  glee,  as  she  looked  at  the  vast  and  splendid  pano 
rama  of  town  and  bay,  and  the  swaying  and  darting 
throngs  of  ships  and  steamers. 

A  soft  violet  haze  filled  the  air,  and  lavished  its  enchant 
ment  on  the  mighty  ranks  of  tall  buildings,  on  the  taper 
ing  forests  of  masts,  and  on  domes  and  spires  which 
marked  the  line  of  Broadway. 

The  dull  red  shaft  of  the  Produce  Exchange,  seen  under 
the  glamour  of  the  hot  summer  afternoon,  was  as  pictu 
resque  as  the  Golden  Tower  at  Seville.  A  "  tramp  "  steam 
ship,  rusty  and  wave-battered,  came  crawling  along  the 
silver  pathway  of  the  waters,  and,  touched  by  the  omni 
present  glory,  was  straightway  as  romantic  as  an  ancient 
caravel. 

Snarling  and  fuming  little  tugs  bounded  over  the  waves, 
their  hoarse  throttles  barking  not  unlike  the  bulldogs 
which  the  sturdy  craft  resemble.  Past  the  Battery  came 
an  "Annex"  ark,  wheezing  majestically,  and  muttering 
sharp  warnings  to  the  sailboats  fluttering  near  its  bow. 
And  in  the  tiny  haven  just  above  Fulton  Ferry  dozens  of 

1 


2  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

u/ster-boats,  with  their  sails  neatly  knotted  at  the  sum 
mits  of  their  slender  inasts,  were  rocking  gently,  as  if 
cradling  their  owners  to  sleep  after  the  day's  toil. 

"Oh!  look!"  cried  Miry  am  suddenly,  dancing  up  and 
down,  with  her  black  curls  floating  in  the  breeze,  "I 
thought  the  great  statue  moved  its  arms !  It  seemed  to 
beckon  to  us !  I  believe  that  if  I  should  spread  out  my 
arms  and  jump  over  the  railing,  I  could  fly  away  to  it  as 
easily ! "  — 

And  the  child  seemed  ready  to  suit  the  action  to  the 
word. 

"  Be  still,  Miryam ! "  said  David,  tugging  at  the  child's 
dress,  as  if  he  feared  that  she  might  try  to  fly.  "A  nice- 
looking  angel  you  would  make,  with  that  patched  petticoat 
and  those  black  stockings!  No,  you  would  simply  get 
smashed  on  the  deck  of  a  ferry-boat  down  below  there; 
and  who  would  take  your  place  in  'Holofernus'  this 
evening  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  about  '  Holofernus,' "  said  the  girl-child  ; 
"  and  as  for  the  dull,  ill-smelling  old  theatre,  I  wish  I  had 
never  seen  it,  even  though  it  does  give  me  a  living.  What 
I  want,  David,"  and  she  turned  a  pair  of  yearning  black 
eyes  full  upon  her  companion,  "  is  light  —  air  —  perfume 
—  space !  Oh,  if  I  could  only  fly  out  across  that  grand 
scene  below  there  ! " 

"  You  frighten  me,  child,"  said  David,  with  a  percepti 
ble  quaver  in  his  voice.  "  That  is  all  the  gratitude  one 
can  expect  of  children.  I  rescue  you  from  a  den  in  which 
you  had  bad  air,  little  food,  and  long  hours  of  cruel  waiting 
daily  ;  I  bring  you  to  my  theatre,  and  teach  you  to  act  in 
my  plays ;  I  make  you  an  artist,  and  give  you  an  inde 
pendent  existence,  and  what  is  my  reward  ?  You  want  to 
fly  away !  And  I  suppose  you  will  do  it  just  when  I  need 
you  most ;  but  not  through  the  air.  You  will  be  taking 


ENTER   JOSEPH  3 

the  Chicago  express  some  day  with  the  dark-faced  fiddler 
from  Moscow  ! " 

Miryam's  girlish  face  clouded :  she  looked  curiously  at 
David,  as  if  doubting  that  he  could  be  in  earnest ;  then  she 
began  to  cry.  David  drew  down  the  corners  of  his  mouth, 
and  tried  to  look  sad  ;  but  suddenly  a  roguish  smile  crept 
over  his  cunning  face,  and  he  held  out  both  hands  to  the 
child. 

"  How  can  we  quarrel  ?  "  he  said.  "  And  on  this  day  of 
all  days  !  Forgive  me,  Miryam,  and  dry  your  tears  ;  for 
Joseph  will  be  here  in  a  minute,  and  if  he  thought  that 
I  had  made  you  cry,  he  might  take  you  away  from 
me." 

And,  coming  closer  to  the  slight  girlish  figure  clinging  to 
the  railing,  he  placed  his  arm  about  it,  and  Miryam  looked 
up  in  his  face,  smiling  through  her  tears. 

"  Sunshine  sparkling  in  the  morning  dew !  "  said  David 
gently,  gazing  admiringly  at  the  pretty  child.  "  You  have 
furnished  me  with  an  inspiration  for  that  new  song  which 
I  must  write  for  '  The  Beautiful  Shulamite.' " 

"  When  shall  I  be  old  enough  to  play  the  '  Shulamite/ 
David  ?  "  inquired  the  girl  eagerly. 

"Never,  I  hope,  my  child.  Leave  that  to  the  actresses 
who  no  longer  tell  how  old  they  are.  Remain  a  child,  and 
beautiful  —  forever." 

Miryam  said  nothing  more,  but  gazed  steadfastly  at  the 
sun-burnished  water  below,  and  David  himself  gradually 
fell  into  a  kind  of  day-dream,  from  which  nothing  came  to 
awaken  him  for  some  minutes. 

From  the  immense  height  at  which  they  stood  each 
detail  of  the  colossal  picture  before  them  gained  fresh 
charms.  The  exquisitely  luminous  and  ethereal  dome  of 
the  sky  seemed  to  Miryam,  when  she  looked  up,  but  a  little 
way  above  her  head,  and  she  could  fancy  herself  poised  in 


4  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

mid  air,  like  some  bird  of  tireless  wing.  Directly  benoath 
them  the  water  was  of  a  deep,  dark  blue,  veiued  with  small 
white  threads  of  foam ;  farther  down  the  bay  it  was  like 
the  silver  in  repousse  work,  catching  and  reflecting  every 
light  thrown  upon  it.  Near  the  base  of  the  gigantic  statue 
a  few  white  sails  were  fluttering,  like  swallows  around  a 
house  wall ;  and  beyond  it  two  or  three  gaunt  black  steam 
ers  lay  at  anchor,  making  an  ugly  shadow  against  the 
faint  blue  of  the  Jersey  shore.  Those  flitting  sails  !  they 
awoke  in  Miryam's  innocent  heart  a  delicious  pain  —  a 
vague  longing  for  the  romantic  and  unknown,  which 
wrested  from  her  little  bosom  a  deep  sigh.  The  home 
sickness  which  she  had  first  felt  when,  a  tiny  slip  of  a  girl, 
she  had  landed  in  New  York,  was  revived  for  a  moment ; 
then  it  died  swiftly  away,  as  if  the  keen  American  air  had 
banished  it. 

David  and  Miryam  were  members  of  the  vast  colony 
of  Russian  and  Polish  Jews  which  has  taken  possession  of 
whole  quarters  of  the  metropolis  since  the  "  persecution  " 
began  anew  in  Russia.  David  was  the  son  of  a  Roumanian 
father  and  a  Russian  mother,  and  had  grown  np  to  boyhood 
in  a  little  town  not  far  from  Odessa.  He  was  of  a  studious 
turn,  and  his  family  was  anxious  that  he  should  become  a 
rabbi ;  but  he  manifested  an  unconquerable  disposition  for 
the  stage,  and  had  just  joined  a  strolling  company  when 
the  persecution  smote  him.  He  was  banished  without  even 
time  to  see  his  old  father  and  mother  in  the  muddy  little 
town  of  his  nativity ;  and  he  and  his  companions,  half 
starved,  and  thoroughly  downcast,  migrated  to  Hamburg. 
There  two  of  them  died  of  hunger,  one  of  the  cholera,  and 
a  fourth  hanged  himself  in  despair. 

But  David  was  destined  to  survive.  By  singing  comic 
jargon  songs  to  the  German  officials  he  managed  to  earn  a 
few  pennies  for  food.  One  day  a  tall,  lean  man,  with  dense 


ENTER   JOSEPH  5 

black  beard  and  hair,  made  his  way  through  the  throng  of 
refugees  to  David,  and  said,  — 

"  I  am  going  to  America  to  open  a  theatre  for  our  people. 
I  have  heard  of  you :  will  you  go  with  me  ?  We  may 
starve  ;  we  may  make  a  fortune  :  will  you  sail  to-morrow  ? 
Come!  don't  linger  here!  You  know  our  proverb:  'Be 
fore  the  sun  rises,  the  dew  may  eat  your  eyes  out.' " 

"  Yes,"  said  David,  who  yielded  to  no  one  in  his  knowl 
edge  of  proverbs ;  "  and  I  know  another  one.  Rabbi  Gam- 
liel  said,  'He  who  hath  a  trade  in  his  hand  is  like  a 
vineyard  that  is  fenced  about.'  I  am  not  afraid  ;  I  will  go 
with  you  to  America." 

The  black-bearded  man's  eyes  twinkled.  Before  night 
fall  he  and  David  were  on  their  way  to  the  land  of  the  free, 
and  David  had  been  engaged  to  write,  i.e.,  to  rearrange  the 
old  Hebrew  tragedies,  pastorals,  and  farces,  which  form 
the  stock  in  trade  of  the  modern  theatre  as  known  to  the 
Russian  and  Roumanian  Jews.  "  We  shall  get  a  living," 
said  David.  "  God  will  help  us.  As  the  wise  saying  hath 
it,  ( He  sits  and  feeds  the  whole  world,  from  the  horns  of 
the  unicorn  to  the  eggs  of  the  vermin  ; '  and  why  should 
he  not  feed  us  ?  " 

David's  confident  prediction  proved  well-founded ;  he 
prospered  in  New  York,  so  that  he  was  able  soon  to  buy  out 
the  black-bearded  man  and  manage  the  theatre  himself. 
But  he  found  abundant  misery  everywhere  around  him  ;  and 
one  day,  when  visiting  a  woman  from  his  native  town  who 
had  been  struck  down  by  disease  while  toiling  at  the  sew 
ing-machine  in  a  pestilential  den  in  Hester  Street,  he  had 
acceded  to  her  dying  request  that  he  should  take  care  of 
her  little  daughter,  Miryam,  until  she  could  care  for  her 
self.  David  closed  the  poor  woman's  eyes,  was  mourner 
at  her  funeral,  and  took  her  desolate  child  to  share  his 
humble  lodgings  in  a  cock-loft  of  the  dingy  barracks  which 
served  as  theatre. 


G  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Miryam  slept  on  a  pile  of  well-worn  costumes,  behind  a 
little  curtain,  and  her  food  was  bread  and  cheese  ;  but  she 
grew  strong,  and,  when  her  grief  was  somewhat  assuaged, 
the  maid  of  twelve  proved  as  pretty  as  a  meadow  violet. 
So  David  at  once  made  her  a  member  of  the  theatrical 
company,  and  she  already  had  a  dozen  Israelitish  heroines 
in  her  repertory. 

David,  as  chief  writer  for  his  own  theatre,  brought  out  a 
new  play  every  few  nights  ;  and  sometimes  his  company, 
recruited  from  the  more  intelligent  artisans  in  the  colony, 
and  their  wives  and  daughters,  with  a  little  sprinkling  of 
"  professionals  "  like  himself,  would  grumble  at  the  hard 
work  imposed  upon  them. 

On  such  occasions  David  would  quaintly  say,  "Those 
who  eat  must  work  !  And  how  shall  we  get  food  except  by 
exertion  ?  We  are  not  like  Rabbi  Chanine  and  Rabbi 
Oshain,  who  used  to  sit  every  Sabbath  evening  and  study 
the  book  of  Jetzirah,  and  then  created  for  themselves  a 
three-year-old  calf  and  ate  it !  " 

And  the  company,  weary  of  this  sempiternal  repetition 
of  the  fable  of  the  wise  men  who  evolved  the  calf  out  of 
their  inner  consciousness,  would  go  on  earning  its  daily 
veal  with  renewed  and  stimulated  industry. 

Meantime,  David's  old  father  and  mother  died  in  Russia, 
just  as  he  was  preparing  to  bring  them  out  of  bondage.  He 
was  now  alone  in  the  world;  so  was  Miryam.  David  was 
thirty ;  Miryam  was  twelve.  She  called  him  father ;  and 
he  called  her  daughter. 

David  was  a  lean,  lank  son  of  Israel,  dark-haired,  dark- 
eyed,  with  regular  features,  and  a  melancholy  mien  which 
seemed  to  indicate  meekness,  but  which  concealed  a  will  of 
iron  and  nerves  of  steel.  Despite  the  theatrical  smartness 
of  Ins  cheap,  but  well-fitting,  clothes,  there  was  a  quaint 
and  Oriental  air  about  him,  which  perhaps  came  from  his 


ENTER    JOSEPH  7 

long  association  with  the  mystery  plays  and  farces  of  the 
Hebrew  stage.  He  looked  like  a  shepherd  from  the  Syrian 
slopes,  masquerading  in  a  Bowery  sixteen-dollar  suit.  He 
was  temperate,  honest,  pure,  and  stocked  with  stage  lore 
and  a  knowledge  of  the  archaic  rnusic  so  common  in  the 
Jewish  theatre. 

Miryam  was  a  superb  example  of  girlish  beauty  of  the 
Southern  Eussian  type,  and  the  brilliant  complexion  and 
full  lips  of  rose-like  redness  testified  to  her  Semitic  origin. 
Not  even  the  slow  starvation  of  her  babyhood,  in  the  bla.ck 
desolation  of  the  village  in  the  "  Pale  "  in  Russia,  and  the 
misery  and  want  which  she  had  known  in  Hester  Street, 
had  been  able  to  dim  the  passionate  glow  of  her  dark  eyes, 
or  to  destroy  the  delicious  curves  of  her  symmetrical 
though  immature  form. 

From  the  tender  age  of  eight  until  she  was  eleven  Mir 
yam  had  known  all  the  tortures  of  the  sweaters'  dens,  in 
which  her  poor  mother  had  lived  and  slaved  sixteen  hours 
daily.  All  day  long  the  little  Miryam,  whose  mother 
would  not  trust  her  to  play  in  the  street,  sat  in  an  atmos 
phere  of  such  foulness  that  when  fresh  air  was  admitted 
into  the  room  by  the  opening  of  a  door,  or  that  very  infre 
quent  event,  the  raising  of  a  window,  it  influenced  her  as  a 
draught  of  strong  wine  would  have  done.  Hour  after  hour 
the'poor  woman  toiled,  sewing  on  buttons,  until  the  shadows 
of  night  came,  and  hunger  came  with  them  to  young  Mir 
yam.  Then  the  mother  produced  from  her  pocket  a  crust 
of  bread,  moistened  it  in  bitter  coffee  made  in  a  crockery 
pot  on  the  stove,  and  with  this  frugal  meal  Miryam  retired 
to  a  pile  of  unfinished  garments.  Upon  this  rude  couch, 
with  fluff  and  dust  choking  her  poor  lungs,  the  child  fell 
asleep,  to  be  roughly  awakened  two  or  three  hours  later 
when  her  mother,  broken  and  bent,  was  preparing  to  creep 
home  to  their  comfortless  couch.  At  home  they  slept, 


8  JOSEPH    ZALMONAII 

often  without  removing  their  garments,  so  worn  out  were 
they  both  with  fatigue,  and  long  before  dawn  they  were 
afoot  again,  crawling  through  the  dark  and  chilly  streets 
back  to  their  toil,  for  which  the  mother  received  but  three 
dollars  and  fifty  cents  weekly. 

Once  only  had  the  mother  been  persuaded  to  allow  Mir- 
yam  to  attend  a  Jewish  school,  kept  by  a  hump-backed 
little  man  in  an  attic  which  was  too  hot  in  summer  and  too 
cold  in  winter.  One  day  Miryarn  came  home  with  some 
strange  notions  which  she  had  learned  while  talking  with 
other  children  in  the  street,  and  the  frightened  mother  at 
once  withdrew  the  child  from  school. 

And  so  Miryam  would  have  continued  to  live  on  bread 
and  coffee,  and  to  sleep  on  the  dusty  and  fuzzy  piles  of 
ready-made  clothing,  until  she  had  contracted  some  dread 
disease,  and  been  carried  off  by  it,  had  not  the  mother  one 
morning  fainted  at  her  work.  The  weary  hands  could  no 
longer  pull  the  needle ;  the  worn  bosom  no  longer  rose  and 
fell  to  the  labored  breathing.  "  Keep  me  my  place  if  you 
can,"  said  the  poor  woman  piteously,  in  the  intervals  of 
her  struggle  for  breath,  "  and  I  will  try  and  get  well  soon ! " 

"  We  keep  no  places  here,"  said  the  contractor,  with  an  evil 
grin.  ""When  a  horse  falls  down,  the  driver  gets  another, 
and  puts  it  in  the  same  place,  and  that  is  all  there  is  of  it." 

So  the  poor  woman  was  borne  away  and  died.  Then 
came  Miryam's  liberation  from  the  foul  air  and  dust;  and 
ever  since  that  time  she  had  displayed  unbounded  pleasure 
in  being  under  the  open  sky,  or  on  heights,  or  on  the  river 
when  cool  breezes  were  blowing.  Even  the  thought  of 
Hester  Street  made  her  shudder. 

The  image  of  her  mother,  lying  peaceful,  and  with  a 
smile  on  her  worn  face,  came  back  to  the  child  as  she  stood 
watching  the  great  moving  plain  of  water  beyond  Govern 
or's  Island.  She  thought  how  bitter  that  smile  had  been 


ENTER   JOSEPH  9 

in  life,  because  the  poor  mother  had  been  sorely  disap 
pointed  at  the  hard  lot  which  had  fallen  to  her  in  Amer 
ica;  and  how  triumphantly  sweet  and  tender  the  smile 
was  after  death  had  touched  the  mother's  face.  It  was  a 
mystery;  she  could  not  fathom  it,  and  she  was  turning  to 
David  with  some  childish  question  concerning  it  upon  her 
lips,  when  she  saw  a  thin  figure  wearily  approaching,  and 
gave  a  cry  of  delight. 

"  Here  is  Joseph  ! "  she  said ;  and  jumping  down  she  ran 
to  him  and  kissed  his  hand  with  a  pretty  and  caressing 
movement  which  had  something  of  reverence  in  it.  David 
also  turned  hastily,  and  held  out  his  hand  joyously,  say 
ing,  — 

"Yes,  it  is  Joseph,  and  ?vith  a  smile  upon  his  face.  I 
like  that  better  than  the  frown  I  last  saw  there." 

Joseph  looked  sharply  at  David.  "Do  you  want  me 
to  smile,"  he  said,  "  when  I  am  crazy  with  desire  for  things 
which  I  can  never  reach  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  the  frown,"  said  David,  "  and  '  to  desire  too 
much  is  remorse.'  'The  camel  desired  horns,  and  his  ears 
were  taken  from  him. ' ' 

"  But  my  desires  are  not  selfish  ones,  David.  They  are 
for  the  good  of  our  poor  people,  and  I  was  taught  to 
believe  that  here  they  would  be  realized  —  here!  in  the 
land  of  liberty  and  plenty !  And  what  have  we  found 
here  ?  A  slavery  more  dreadful  than  that  which  we  left  at 
home ! " 

The  speaker  struck  the  railing  fiercely  with  his  right 
hand,  as  he  said  these  words,  and  his  eyes  sparkled.  In  a 
few  moments  he  would  have  burst  forth  anew,  but  Miryam 
hastened  to  his  side,  and,  laying  her  pretty  head  against  his 
arm,  looked  up  into  his  eyes  with  a  gentle  smile,  saying, — 

"  Ah,  Joseph,  not  to-day  !  Don't  think  upon  wrong  and 
suffering  and  weariness  to-day  !  Think  of  your  wife  and 


10  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

the  little  one  who  will  soon  be  with  you  —  who  are  hasten 
ing  to  you  over  the  shining  water  down  there." 

A  smile  stole  over  Joseph's  sombre  features,  as  the  sun 
sometimes  sends  a  vagrant  ray  into  the  edge  of  a  forest. 
"  How  she  says  that,  the  little  actress  ! "  he  cried.  "  David 
has  already  given  her  the  trick  of  the  trade  ! "  Then  his 
manner  altered  suddenly.  He  approached  the  railing,  and, 
gazing  out  over  the  water,  the  islands,  and  the  faint  line  of 
blue  shore  behind  them,  he  murmured  brokenly,  — 

"Yes,  they  are  coming  —  they  are  almost  here  !  My  wife 
and  my  child !  And  to  what  are  they  coming  ?  To  the 
graves  of  all  their  hopes ! " 

David  glanced  at  Miryam,  who  was  alarmed  at  this  un 
usual  sternness  of  manner;  and  he  made  a  slight  gesture 
to  indicate  that  she  should  leave  the  duty  of  comforting 
Joseph  in  his  hands. 

"See,  Joseph!"  he  said  briskly.  "It  is  already  half 
past  two.  As  they  came  into  the  bay  early,  they  have  fin 
ished  with  the  health  officers  long  ago.  The  ship  is  moving 
up  the  harbor.  At  any  minute  you  may  see  her.  Cheer 
up ;  drive  away  those  dreadful  fancies  !  Be  ready  to  wel 
come  your  wife,  your  child." 

"  David  ! "  said  Joseph,  facing  him  suddenly,  "  do  you 
mean  to  say  that  our  misery  is  not  real  ?  " 

"No,  no,"  answered  the  ingenious  David,  seeing  that 
Joseph  would  drive  him  to  a  discussion,  and  then  corner 
him,  unless  he  fenced  himself  off  with  a  proverb;  "but 
remember  that  'to  be  patient  is  sometimes  better  than  to 
have  much  wealth ! ' ' 

Joseph  did  not  reply,  but  extended  his  arm,  and  pointed 
to  a  black  mass  now  coming  into  full  view  beyond  the 
lines  of  green  and  gray  on  Governor's  Island,  and  moving 
slowly  past  the  great  statue.  This  was  an  ocean  steam 
ship,  a  huge  Glasgow  liner,  bound  in  and  working  up 


ENTER   JOSEPH  11 

across  the  shining  water  with  cumbrous  and  ungraceful 
action. 

"  The  ship  !  the  ship  !  "  cried  David.  "  There  they  are  ! 
I  know  the  old  ark  by  her  bow.  Shall  I  ever  forget  the 
days  I  spent  in  that  craft !  Come,  Joseph  !  they  will  be 
able  to  land  to-night.  Come,  man,  and  welcome  your 
family  ! " 

"  A  bitter  welcome !  "  said  Joseph,  as  two  tears  rolled 
down  his  face.  "  A  welcome  to  slavery  and  sorrow  !  A 
welcome  to  the  living  death." 

He  spoke  with  such  terrible  earnestness  that  David  and 
Miryam  fell  back  aghast.  Volcanic  forces  were  at  work  in 
the  man's  soul. 

Joseph  was  tall  and  gaunt,  with  delicate  features  marked 
with  a  certain  shrewdness,  which  had  been  refined  and 
spiritualized  by  melancholy  and  suffering.  His  hair  was 
coal  black,  and  fell  down  upon  his  shoulders ;  a  black 
mustache  shaded  his  sensitive  and  nervous  lips ;  his  cheeks 
were  beardless.  His  eyes  were  the  singular  and  compen 
sating  features  in  his  physiognomy.  They  were  azure  blue, 
profound,  pellucid,  frank,  and  fearless.  There  was  the 
calm  of  greatness  in  them. 

The  chin  was  not  strong ;  the  brow  was  low,  but  marked 
with  power.  Joseph's  limbs  were  thin;  his  frame  was 
bowed  forward,  and  there  was  a  faint  flush  in  his  cheeks. 
His  hands  were  marked  and  scarred  with  toil.  He  was 
neatly,  but  plainly  dressed,  and  would  have  passed  un 
noticed  in  the  streets  had  it  not  been  for  his  wonderfully 
luminous  eyes  and  the  deep  sadness  of  his  expression. 

Joseph  took  off  his  hat,  and  turning  his  back  to  the  ship 
leaned  wearily  against  the  railing,  with  his  arms  spread  out 
upon  it,  and  his  head  bent  forward. 

Standing  thus,  in  bold  relief  between  sea  and  sky,  it 
seemed  to  David's  active  perceptions,  always  acutely  open 


12  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

to  the  picturesque  and  theatrical,  that  Joseph  bore  a  re 
semblance  to  an  old  print  which  he  had  once  seen  of  the 
crucified  Nazarene  —  the  Jew  who  willingly  suffered  for 
the  sins  of  his  fellows  twenty  centuries  ago,  and  who  was 
denied  by  his  countrymen  even  when  his  agony  was  most 
bitter.  But  the  reddish  glow  which  had  lingered  around 
Joseph's  dark  head  for  a  moment  vanished,  and  with  it  the 
fancy  went  from  David's  mind. 

"  Come  !  "  said  Miryara.  "  We  have  seen  the  ship  ;  that 
was  what  we  came  up  here  to  see,  and  now  let  us  go  and 
welcome  the  greenhorns !  Come,  Joseph  !  are  you  dream 
ing?" 

"  I  wish  it  all  were  only  a  dream,"  said  Joseph  sadly. 


MALCHA  IN   THE  LAND  OF   PKOMISE  13 


CHAPTER   II 

MALCHA    IN    THE   LAND    OF    PROMISE 

WHEN  the  three  friends,  after  a  fatiguing  walk  of  an 
hour  through  crowded  streets,  losing  their  way  and  finding 
it  again  with  infinite  difficulty,  at  last  came  out  upon  the 
fresh  green  expanse  of  the  Battery  Park,  and  felt  the  cool 
breeze  of  the  harhor  upon  their  heated  faces,  the  steamer 
had  already  sent  off  the  greater  portion  of  its  immigrants. 

The  gloomy  interior  of  Castle  Garden  was  crowded  with 
them ;  and  men,  women,  and  children  were  straggling  about, 
vainly  trying  to  obey  the  orders  shouted  at  them  in  half  a 
dozen  languages.  In  one  dark  corner  a  dozen  long-bearded 
old  men  had  thrown  themselves  down  in  the  dirt  together, 
and  were  gazing  up  at  the  whitewashed  walls  of  the  time- 
worn  fortress  with  as  melancholy  air  as  if  they  were  pris 
oners.  Black-hued  and  tawny-skinned  women,  with  quaintly 
dressed  little  children  clinging  to  their  skirts,  sat  on  their 
bundles  of  household  gear,  and  looked  around  with  fright 
ened  eyes.  The  portal  to  the  Land  of  Promise  was  so 
different  from  the  image  which  they  had  formed  of  it ! 
During  the  long  days  of  steaming  across  the  summer  ocean 
they  had  beguiled  the  way  by  picturing  to  themselves  an 
exquisite  garden  park,  with  some  old  and  picturesque  castle 
frowning  upon  it  from  a  commanding  eminence.  Into  this 
pleasure-ground  they  would  be  doubtless  ushered  up  long 
flights  of  marble  stairs,  leading  from  the  sea;  and,  after 


14  JOSKI'II    XALMONAII 

pleasant  partings  there  with  tlieir  fellow-voyagers,  and 
joyous  meeting  with  their  friends  awaiting  them,  they 
would  go  merrily  forward  in  pursuit  of  fortune,  and  per 
haps  of  fame.  But  this  gloomy  place  into  which  they  were 
almost  driven,  as  if  they  were  sheep  or  cattle !  this  circular 
tower,  which  seemed  like  the  anteroom  to  some  penal  insti 
tution  ! —  how  sadly  did  it  differ  from  their  vision  !  Was 
it  possible  that  it  was  the  gateway  to  Liberty  ? 

These  thoughts  were  in  Malcha's  mind,  and  brought  a 
mortal  sadness  to  her  pretty  face,  as  she  stood  near  one  of 
the  unpainted  wooden  railings,  with  little  Zipporah  wailing 
at  her  knee.  The  poor  wan  girl  child  was  hungry  and 
afraid,  and  Malcha  was  in  much  the  same  condition.  Every 
thing  around  her  seemed  black  and  unlovely  ;  and  now  for 
the  first  time  a  fear  that  Joseph  might  not  coine  to  meet 
her  stole  into  her  heart.  Perhaps  he  was  ill,  or  had  mis 
taken  the  day !  And  what  could  she  do  alone  in  a  great 
city, -with  Zipporah  clinging  to  her  skirts?  The  formali 
ties  of  landing  had  already  alarmed  her ;  and  now  the 
absence  of  the  beloved  face  increased  her  apprehension  so 
that  it  was  almost  intolerable.  She  stooped  and  raised 
little  Zipporah,  and  mingled  her  tears  with  those  of  the 
child. 

How  long  she  stood  so  she  never  knew.  It  might  have 
been  half  an  hour,  for  she  lost  all  sense  of  what  was  going 
on  around  her,  as  before  her  arose  a  scene  she  had  lately 
witnessed.  It  was  the  gathering  of  the  immigrants  on  the 
lower  deck  of  the  huge  black  steamer,  to  see  the  mammoth 
statue  of  Liberty,  serene  and  imposing  on  its  little  island 
amid  the  tranquil  waters,  as  they  came  into  port.  How  the 
poor  souls  huddled  together  and  cheered !  How  they  held 
out  glad  and  welcoming  hands  to  the  vast  bronze  imperson 
ation  of  the  supreme  blessing  of  human  life  —  the  liberty 
so  sighed  for,  prayed  for,  fought  for,  in  the  countries  which 


MALCHA  IN   THE   LAND   OF   PROMISE  15 

they  were  now  forever  leaving  behind  them!  What  ineffa 
ble  and  mysterious  inspiration  seemed  to  pass  into  the 
hearts  of  these  worn  victims  of  oppression,  as  the  steamship 
came  abreast  of  the  statue  !  How  old  men  took  off  their 
hats,  and  all  unconsciously  stood  erect,  as  if  for  the  first 
time  in  their  lives  they  felt  free  to  assert  their  indepen 
dence  !  How  the  eyes  of  wan  mothers  glistened  as  they 
held  up  their  offspring  to  greet  the  mighty  symbol  of  free 
dom  and  refuge  from  tyranny  !  Verily  Malcha  had,  for 
one  moment,  felt  such  a  pang  of  ecstasy  then,  that  it  repaid 
her  for  all  the  sorrows  and  persecutions  past.  But  now  ! 

Now  she  was  hungry  and  tired  and  afraid.  A  huge  Ital 
ian  woman,  her  arms  filled  with  screaming  olive-colored  brats, 
jostled  her  rudely  ;  Norwegians  and  Danes  and  Arabs  paused 
to  ask  her  questions,  which  of  course  she  did  not  under 
stand  ;  and  when  finally  an  official  charged  down  upon  her 
with  a  volley  of  inquiries,  each  of  which  to  her  unpi-acticed 
ear  sounded  like  accusations,  her  tears  flowed  more  freely, 
and  she  could  only  murmur  "Joseph." 

At  that  instant  a  hand  touched  her  lightly  on  the  shoul 
der.  Her  heart  leaped  with  joy,  and  she  turned  eagerly, 
certain  that  she  was  to  look  upon  the  longed-for  face.  No, 
it  was  David ;  whom  she  did  not  at  first  recognize  in  the 
transformation  due  to  American  garb.  But  in  a  minute 
she  was  certain  of  the  features  of  her  dear  old  friend,  —  lie 
who  had  known  her  as  a  girl  in  her  father's  house,  —  and 
she  bowed  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and  sobbed  out  her  re 
lief,  and  asked  for  Joseph,  while  little  Zipporah  joined  in 
the  refrain. 

David  did  not  at  once  answer  the  poor  wife's  inquiry  for 
her  husband.  He  smoothed  the  small  Zipporah's  tangled 
hair,  and  remarked  in  his  soft,  tranquil  tones,  "  Rabbi  Akiba 
said,  '  It  is  well  that  man  should  be  afflicted,  for  his  dis 
tresses  atone  for  his  sins.'  But  the  rabbi  did  not  say  that 


16  JOSEPH   ZALMONAIT 

affliction  was  necessary  for  woman.  Cheer  up,  Malchaf 
you  are  in  your  new  home  at  last ! " 

"  And  where  is  Joseph  ?  " 

"  We  will  go  to  him  at  once.  Give  me  the  child.  The 
bundles  may  stay  here  for  the  moment.  Joseph  is  seated 
on  a  bench  outside,  in  the  park.  The  sun  gave  him  a  little 
knock  on  the  head  as  we  were  coming  here.  And  my 
friend  Miry  am  is  attending  him.  There  now,  Malcha !  " 

And  David  gave  a  cry  of  surprise  and  expostulation,  for 
Malcha  had  seized  the  child,  and  was  running  like  a  deer 
toward  the  exit,  wild  with  fear  lest  the  beloved  Joseph  were 
in  danger.  He  managed  to  stop  her,  and  save  her  from 
crushing  herself  and  Zipporah  in  the  struggling  throng ; 
and,  after  much  persuasion  and  many  proverbs,  he  succeeded 
in  piloting  her  safely  into  the  park,  and  to  the  bench  where 
Miryam  sat,  rather  dejectedly  supporting  the  forlorn 
Joseph's  head  upon  her  shoulder. 

A  little  pang  of  jealousy  shot  through  Malcha's  heart 
at  this  spectacle,  but  it  was  speedily  dispelled  by  David's 
many  explanations.  "Joseph  has  been  overworked;  you 
see  all  our  poor  people  have  to  overwork  ;  and  his  strength 
gave  out.  Then  the  excitement  and  the  sun  wearied  him, 
and  — he  is  so  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miryam ;  "  the  work  and  the  worry  about 
our  poor  people  are  killing  him." 

Malcha  did  not  quite  understand  this,  nor  did  she  hear 
all  of  it,  for  now  Joseph  had  revived;  his  arms  were  around 
her,-  his  kiss  was  on  her  brow,  and  the  child  was  clinging  to 
him.  David  and  Miryam  said  nothing  while  the  reunited 
pair  babbled  their  joy,  and  David  was  just  about  to  return 
to  Castle  Garden  to  secure  the  few  bundles  which  composed 
Malcha's  baggage,  when  he  was  accosted  in  jargon  by  a 
small  red-haired  man,  with  a  cracked  voice,  who  assumed 
a  mysterious  air,  and  beckoned  him  aside. 


MALCIIA    IN   THE   LAND   OF   PROMISE  IT 

"Ah  !  Ben  Zion  !"  said  David,  "what  brings  you  so  far 
out  of  your  beat  ?  Have  you  made  your  fortune,  and  are 
you  already  going  back  to  fight  against  the  Czar  ?  I  see 
you  have  brought  your  carriage.  Perhaps  you  have  come 
to  ask  us  to  take  a  drive  with  you  ?  " 

"  Always  laughing,  David  !  "  answered  the  cracked  voice 
querulously,  emerging  timidly  from  the  recesses  of  the 
red  beard  and  mustaches,  and  provoking  a  smile  by  its 
quaint  cadences.  "  Heigh  ho !  I  see  that  you  play-actors 
have  no  idea  of  the  hardships  of  real  life.  I  understand 
that  you  had  a  caricature  of  me  ou  your  stage  the  other 
day,  in  that  play  you  wrote  about  the  Polish  Jews  in  the 
Bowery.  Ah !  David,  David  !  I  might  get  heavy  damages 
against  you  ! "  and  he  threw  back  his  opened  palms  above 
his  head,  and  shook  them  playfully  at  David. 

"  What !  you  old  miser  ! "  cried  David,  a  little  disturbed 
by  this  accusation,  to  which  he  was  bound  to  plead  guilty. 
"  I  give  you  an  advertisement  worth  thousands  of  dollars, 
and  you  want  to  sue  me  for  damages.  Ah !  Ben  Zion  !  you 
do  not  belie  the  race  of  pedlers  to  which  you  belong  ! " 

"  Pedlers  are  their  own  best  advertisements,  I  have 
heard  my  grandfather  say,"  replied  Ben  Zion,  whose  eyes 
twinkled  merrily,  and  who  did  not  seem  very  angry.  "And 
now  to  business ! "  he  continued,  lowering  his  voice.  "  I 
have  heard  that  Joseph's  wife  was  coming  out  on  this 
steamer,  and  so  I  brought  my  wagon  to  take  her  baggage 
to  the  house  for  her.  Do  you  think,  David/'  he  said,  "  that 
Joseph  would  accept  that  little  service  ?  I  know  that  he 
has  none  too  much  money — for  he  gives  away  much.  And 
the  strikes  and  lock-outs  !  Ah  !  happy  am  I  that  I  have 
no  wife  nor  daughter  obliged  to  pull  a  needle ! " 

"  Why,  yes,  Ben  Zion  !  "  cried  David  heartily.  "  Joseph 
and  Malcha  here  will  thank  you  for  your  offer,  which  I  will 
accept  for  them."  And  Ben  Zion  tiptoed  forward,  holding 


18  JOSEPH  ZALMOXAH 

his  greasy  hat  in  one  hand,  and  saluted  Joseph  as  if 
that  forlorn  and  fatigued  personage  were  an  emperor. 

Ben  Zion  was  a  pedler,  and  dwelt  in  a  cellar  in  Hester 
Street.  By  dint  of  seventeen  hours  of  unremitting  toil 
daily,  he  managed  to  keep  the  wolf  from  entering  his  damp 
and  gloomy  abode,  although  the  creature  often  enough 
showed  his  fangs  at  the  door.  The  little  man  had  a  wiry 
frame,  on  which  there  was  not  a  superfluous  ounce  of  flesh. 
His  features,  of  pronounced  Hebraic  type,  were  framed  so 
grotesquely  in  the  bright  red  hair  and  untrimmed  red  beard 
that  every  one's  first  impulse  on  beholding  Ben  Zion  was 
to  laugh.  A  pair  of  full  and  red  lips,  slightly  open,  dis 
played  even  white  teeth;  and  two  black  eyes  twinkled  with 
a  shrewdness  which  showed  that  their  owner  rarely  got  the 
worst  of  a  bargain.  He  had  been  in  America  five  years, 
and  had  learned  the  rudiments  of  English.  His  "  declara 
tion  of  intention  "  to  become  .a  citizen  was  long  ago  made ; 
and  now  and  then,  when  standing  behind  his  push  cart  in 
the  "  Pig  Market,"  he  ventured  to  express  himself  on  polit 
ical  matters  as  if  he  were  already  an  independent  voter. 

At  two  in  the  morning  Ben  Zion  arose,  ate  a  lump  of 
bread  and  a  pickle,  and  pulling  into  shape  the  garments  in 
which  he  had  slept,  he  propelled  his  little  cart  to  the  Grand 
Street  Ferry.  While  waiting  for  the  boat,  on  fine  nights,  he 
lay  on  his  back  in  the  cart  and  studied  the  stars.  Once 
across  the  river,  he  trundled  away  to  Wallabout  Market, 
where  he  bought  carrots  and  onions ;  and  with  his  savory 
load  he  hastened  back  to  Hester  Street,  to  meet  the  current 
of  frugal  Jewish  housewives  seeking  provisions  for  the  mid 
day  repast.  Ben  Zion  was  an  artist  in  peddling  ;  he  knew 
exactly  how  often  to  move  his  cart,  so  tjiat  the  admonishing 
club  of  the  policeman  should  not  gall  his  shoulders ;  and  it 
was  indeed  a  mouldy  carrot  or  deteriorated  onion  which  he 
could  not  force  the  sale  of.  In  the  afternoon  he  reappeared 


MALCHA   IN   THE    LAND    OF    PROMISE  19 

with  the  cart  gayly  decked  with  cheap  stationery  and  trin 
kets,  in  which  he  did  a  tidy  trade  until  four ;  after  which  he 
locked  \\p  his  cart  in  the  cellar,  and  betook  himself  with  a 
little  pack  to  Fulton  Street.  Here  he  sat  on  a  broad  step, 
with  a  stock  of  useful  articles  spread  out  beside  him.  He 
folded  his  hands,  and  assuming  the  dignity  of  a  Hebrew 
prophet  in  lamentation,  he  softly  murmured  from  time  to 
time,  "  Shoe-strings  !  Shoe-lace-us  !  Col'  buttons  ! "  The 
grand  air  and  the  assumption  of  indifference  were  profitable 
strokes  of  acting.  Ben  Zion  did  a  good  business  with  the 
hungry  throng  of  home-hurrying  Brooklynites.  In  warm 
evenings  he  sold  "  hokey-pokey  "  in  East  Broadway,  and 
went  early  to  bed  in  a  stone  recess  in  the  cellar,  where 
friendly  rats  scampered  over  him  at  intervals,  without  dis 
turbing  his  slumbers  a  particle. 

Such  was  the  daily  life  of  Ben  Zion,  poor  waif  from  a 
muddy  town  within  the  Jewish  "  Pale  "  in  Russia,  landed 
upon  American  shores  with  scarcely  a  dollar  in  his  pocket, 
started  in  his  humble  business  by  the  charity  of  his  fellow 
refugees,  but  esteeming  himself  the  happiest  of  men.  Ben 
Zion  looked  with  genuine  pity  upon  the  toiling  thousands 
of  cloak  and  clothing  makers  ;  perhaps  in  his  secret  heart 
he  cherished  a  contempt  for  them,  because  they  seemed  to 
fall  with  such  readiness  into  the  snare  of  the  sweaters. 
"  But  there  !  poor  things  !  "  he  would  say,  "  they  were  not 
born  with  figures  in  their  head,  as  I  was !  We  cannot  all 
be  in  commerce  !" 

For  Joseph,  because  of  what  he  had  done  to  ameliorate  the 
sad  lot  of  the  sweated  toilers,  Ben  Zion  had  an  intense  re 
spect,  which  would  have  reached  veneration,  had  it  not  been 
kept  in  check  by  the  so-called  "  socialists."  These  somewhat 
incoherent  enemies  of  the  established  order  of  things  were 
also  Joseph's  enemies,  because  he  brought  peace  rather  than 
a  sword  into  the  treatment  of  disputes  between  capital  and 


20  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAH 

labor ;  and  they  never  tired  of  speaking  ill  of  him.  Ben 
Zion  listened  to  them,  but  his  heart  yearned  to  Joseph,  and 
he  would  not  believe  the  inventions  of  his  enemies. 

It  was  to  manifest  his  affection  for  the  unselfish  and 
courageous  leader  that  Ben  Zion  had  jogged  down  to  the 
Battery  Park,  to  save  Joseph  and  Malcha  any  expense  for 
transportation  of  baggage.  At  the  same  time  he  intended 
to  do  a  stroke  of  business ;  for,  as  he  informed  David,  "  the 
American  boys  stone  our  people  when  they  appear  in  the 
streets  with  their  Russian  flat  caps  on  ;  so  I  have  brought 
down  a  few  nice  second-hand  straw  hats,  very  cheap  !  " 
And  his  assistant,  who  kept  watch  over  his  cart  while 
he  talked  with  Joseph,  was  at  that  moment  reaping 
a  rich  harvest  by  selling  these  hats  to  refugees,  old  and 
young,  as  one  by  one  they  straggled  away  from  Castle 
Garden. 

When  David  and  Miryam  had  gone  with  Ben  Zion  to 
secure  the  baggage,  and  Joseph  and  his  wife  and  child  had 
no  witnesses  save  an  occasional  indifferent  passer-by, 
Joseph's  energy  returned,  but  a  mortal  sadness  settled 
upon  his  face.  How  could  he  tell  his  wife  of  the  horrible 
slough  of  despair  into  which  he  and  the  greater  part  of  his 
brother  and  sister  refugees  had  fallen  ?  He  had  not  dared 
to  tell  her  the  truth  in  the  letters  sent  to  her  in  Russia; 
nor,  indeed,  had  he  ventured  to  write  often  to  her,  lest  some 
chance  sentence  in  one  of  his  letters  should  be  made  the 
pretext  for  persecution  of  the  dear  patient  wife  and  her 
friends  and  relatives.  And  when  he  learned  that  her  father 
had  at  last  consented  that  she  might  join  him  in  America, 
much  apprehension  for  the  future  was  mingled  with  the 
rapture  awakened  by  the  thought  of  reunion.  And  now 
she  must  know  the  truth :  she  must  be  told  that  the  misery 
into  which  they  had  fallen  in  New  York  was  almost  as  deep 
as  that  which  they  had  left  behind  them. 


MALCHA  IN  THE   LAND   OF   PROMISE  21 

"  Except,"  thought  Joseph,  "  that  here  we  have  nearly 
absolute  personal  liberty  —  and  that  is  a  great  deal." 

While  Joseph,  with  little  Zipporah's  olive  cheek  laid 
lovingly  against  his  pale  face,  talked  to  his  wife  of  every* 
thing  except  the  one  topic  which  lay  so  heavily  upon  his 
heart,  Malcha's  eyes  were  busy  with  the  strange  new  land 
scape,  the  tall  buildings,  and  the  people  who  seemed  hast, 
ening  to  some  rendezvous  upon  which  their  very  lives 
depended,  so  serious  and  preoccupied  was  their  air.  The 
sinuous  trains  crawling  to  and  fro  on  the  high  skeleton 
platforms ;  the  mottled  row  of  houses  beyond  them  ;  the 
pretty  sweep  of  lawn  in  the  park,  with  its  fringe  of  trees, 
behind  which  arose  the  reddish  walls  and  dome  of  the 
Washington  building ;  the  Battery  terrace,  with  the  water 
lapping  against  it  lazily,  save  when  some  huge  craft  passed, 
and  sent  a  procession  of  scurrying  wavelets  to  the  shore ; 
the  ferry  houses,  with  the  endless  processions  of  people  and 
of  huge  rumbling  drays  and  clanking  beer  wagons  to  and 
from  them  —  all  these  things  were  new  and  strange  to  her ; 
and  in  spite  of  the  brilliant  sunshine,  and  the  cloudless 
blue  of  the  heavenly  vault,  she  felt  a  strong  depression, 
against  which  she  tried  in  vain  to  rebel.  Everything  was 
so  full  of  light  and  life  and  action !  She  longed  for  a 
comfortable  shadow  into  which  she  might  creep  for  a  time, 
until  she  had  gathered  a  little  more  courage  for  her  entry 
into  the  "  promised  land." 

One  glimpse  of  the  sweaters'  hell  was  caught  by  Malcha, 
despite  Joseph's  unwillingness  to  unveil  its  horrors  so 
early.  That  was  when  he  told  his  wife  the  story  of 
Miryam  and  her  mother,  and  how  David  had  taken  pity  on 
the  poor,  deserted  girl.  But  Malcha  did  not  ask  him  to 
tell  her  more,  and  Joseph's  heart  sank  within  him  when 
he  reflected  how  soon  she  would  find  out  everything  for 
herself. 


22  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

When  Ben  Zion  and  the  others  came  back  with  the 
bundles,  Malcha  was  trying  to  place  in  her  husband's 
hands  the  small  store  of  roubles  which  her  worthy  father 
had  sent  him,  but  Joseph  made  her  keep  it.  This  tiny  sum, 
and  the  price  of  Malcha's  journey  with  little  Zipporah  to 
America,  represented  the  good  man's  contribution  to  their 
future  prosperity.  "  I  can  do  no  more,"  he  had  said ;  "  the 
Russian  government  will  soon  take  from  me  all  that  your 
mother  and  I  have  managed  to  save."  And  so,  indeed,  it 
proved  ere  long. 

"The  little  girl  has  fallen  asleep,"  said  Ben  Zion.  "If 
I  might  suggest,  let  us  put  her  in  the  push  cart,  and  cover 
her  with  this  bit  of  cloth.  She  will  ride  nicely  so."  This 
was  done,  and  the  party  made  its  way  to  the  East  side, 
through  streets  which  to  Malcha  seemed  endless,  and  in 
which  they  encountered  rough  people,  who  jostled  them  and 
called  them  "  Sheenies,"  affixing  to  this  descriptive  epithet 
a  bewildering  collection  of  variegated  profanity  which  was 
not  without  a  touch  of  the  grotesque.  Here  and  there  a 
half-grown  youth  threw  a  stone,  or  a  hulking  bully  made 
a  derisive  gesture  ;  but  these  things,  which  made  Malcha's 
heart  beat  faster,  and  her  face  turn  white  with  apprehen 
sion,  seemed  to  have  no  effect  on  Ben  Zion  or  Joseph. 

At  last  they  came  into  East  Broadway,  where  David  and 
Miryam  left  them  ;  and,  just  as  Malcha's  force  was  failing, 
the  little  cart  stopped  in  front  of  a  tall,  grim,  old  mansion 
which  had  seen  better  days,  and  which  still  had  about  it  a 
curious  air  of  faded  gentility.  Hebrew  signs  covered  the 
front  of  this  building,  and  the  jargon  which  was  Malcha's 
native  tongue  was  heard  on  every  side.  Multitudes  of 
children  were  screaming,  dancing,  and  jostling  each  other; 
but  the  men  and  women  whom  they  met  were  pale,  bent, 
and  silent.  The  men  seemed  half-asleep,  as  they  staggered 
along  beneath  the  weight  of  huge  piles  of  clothing,  from 


MALCHA   IN   THE   LAND   OF   PROMISE  23 

which  arose  the  faint,  nauseating  odor  of  dyes  and  hot 
pressed  cloth  ;  the  women's  faces  were  drawn  and  worn, 
and  some  of  them  had  a  wild  look,  as  of  persons  half  crazed 
with  long  vigils.  Young  Polish  and  Russian  girls,  with 
heads  bent  and  eyes  half  closed,  were  toiling  at  sewing- 
machines  in  a  basement  into  which  the  afternoon  sun  was 
sending  some  scorching  rays. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Malcha,  who  was  beginning  to  feel  a 
bit  more  cheerful  at  the  sound  of  her  own  language  in  the 
street,  and  the  sight  of  it  upon  signs,  "at  least  there  is 
work  for  everybody  here  !  And  that  is  better  than  in 
Podolia,  is  it  not,  Joseph  ? "  she  said,  thinking  of  the 
throngs  of  half-starved,  unemployed,  and  persecuted  He 
brews  in  the  town  whence  she  had  come,  in  the  far-away 
Russian  province. 

"  No,  Malcha,  no,"  answered  Joseph  in  a  low,  fierce  voice, 
taking  his  wife's  arm,  arid  aiding  her  to  climb  the  steep 
steps  to  the  old-fashioned  door.  "No,  it  is  not  better  here 
—  not  at  present.  But  don't  ask  me  how  or  why  to-day, 
my  love  ! " 

As  Malcha  went  up  the  steps,  she  caught  sight,  to  her 
astonishment  and  delight,  of  a  familiar  face.  It  was  that 
of  a  young  girl  who  had  been  her  neighbor  at  home  —  a 
beautiful,  voluptuous  face,  with  exquisite  features  set  in  a 
picturesque  frame  of  coal-black  hair.  Malcha  nodded  and 
waved  her  hand  impulsively  in  recognition,  and  would  have 
paused  to  speak  with  her,  but  the  girl  hastily  turned  her 
face  and  glided  away. 

"See,  Joseph,  see!"  cried  Malcha,  "there  is  Shiphrah, 
the  pretty  Shiphrah  from  our  own  town  !  our  old  neighbor ! 
Joseph,  do  run  after  her,  and  tell  her  that  I  am  here  ! " 

"Hush,  Malcha!"  said  Joseph,  hurrying  his  wife  into 
the  house,  and  taking  the  sleeping  Zipporah  from  Ben 
Zion's  arms,  "  do  not  speak  of  that  creature !  Do  not 


24  JOSEPH    ZALMONAII 

say  that  you  have  seen  her !  She  is  lost  forever !  I 
do  not  blame  her:  she  is  but  one  of  many  victims ;  but 
to  you  she  is  lost  —  lost!" 

"  Oh,  dear  ! "  cried  Malcha,  bursting  into  a  passionate  fit 
of  weeping ;  "  how  terrible  !  And  what  is  the  meaning  of 
all  this  mystery,  Joseph  ?  And  why  are  you  so  sad  ?  " 

"Not  to-day,  love,  not  to-day,"  said  Joseph,  trying  to 
smile.  "Let  me  welcome  yon  to  our  poor  little  home. 
See !  you  have  already  brought  the  sunshine  into  it." 

And  at  that  instant  a  vagrant  ray  streamed  in  at  the 
open  window  of  the  room  which  they  were  just  entering, 
and  enveloped  in  golden  glory  the  young  parents  and  the 
sleeping  child  between  them. 


BAUMEISTER   IS   REPELLED  25 


CHAPTER   III 

BAUMEISTER    IS    KEPELLED 

WHEX  Malcha  awoke  next  morning,  she  might  almost 
have  persuaded  herself  that  she  was  still  in  her  humble 
village  in  the  Jewish  "  Pale,"  in  the  Russia  from  which 
she  had  been  compelled  to  flee.  For  in  the  plainly  fur 
nished  room  many  simple  memorials  of  her  old  home,  un 
packed  from  her  bundles  by  Joseph's  loving  care,  were 
placed  where  she  could  see  them  as  soon  as  she  awoke. 

Little  Zipporah  was  nestling  at  her  side,  and  smiling  at 
the  long  rays  of  sunshine  which  slanted  into  the  room 
through  dusty  blinds ;  and  outside  Malcha  could  hear  two 
highly  pitched  female  voices  talking  in  her  native  jargon. 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  one  voice,  "  he  is  as  thin  as  a  spring 
snow-drift,  and  he  will  kill  himself  running  after  those 
poor  fools  of  cloakmakers." 

"Yes;  but,  my  good  woman,  doesn't  he  make  his  living 
that  way  ?  and  shouldn't  we  all  work  for  our  livings  ?  " 

"A  pretty  living  you  would  make,"  cried  the  first  voice, 
rising  to  the  sharpness  of  a  piccolo  in  its  intense  earnest 
ness,  "if  you  did  missionary  work  fifteen  hours  a  day, 
and  then  gave  to  the  poor  whatever  it  brought  you  in.  I 
tell  you  he  goes  hungry,  and  I  know  it.  And  now  that  his 
good  wife  is  here,  I  have  a  mind  to  tell  her,  so  that  she 
can  put  order  in  the  head  of  this  dreamer." 

Malcha  sat  bolt  upright  in  bed,  and  put  out  both  hands, 


26  JOSEPH   ZALMONAU 

as  if  she  would  ward  off  the  words  she  had  just  heard. 
They  were  talking  of  Joseph — her  Joseph,  from  whom 
she  had  been  separated  for  two  weary  years.  And  he  was 
in  trouble,  in  poverty,  and  —  what  did  she  hear  ?  —  doing 
missionary  work  for  the  poor ! 

A  proud  and  satisfied  look  came  into  her  face.  So  now 
she  understood  many  things.  Now  she  could  comprehend 
why  Joseph  could  not  send  her  the  money  to  bring  her  to 
America,  and  why  her  relatives  had  been  compelled  to  ad 
vance  it.  Now  she  saw  why  Joseph  was  so  preoccupied ; 
why  he  had  been  so  sad  and  quiet  at  their  meeting  after  so 
long  a  separation ;  and  why  he  had  arisen  long  before 
dawn,  saying  that  he  had  some  business  among  the  work 
ing  people. 

She  had  noted  the  hectic  flush  in  his  cheek,  the  intense 
fire  in  his  eyes,  his  poor  and  scanty  clothing,  and  his  hands 
calloused  and  stained  and  scarred  with  toil.  And  now,  as 
she  lay  back  upon  her  pillow  and  thought  anew  upon  those 
poor  hands,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  had  dreamed 
of  another  lot  than  this  in  America  for  her  Joseph. 

"Must  we  forever  be  driven  on  and  on,  without  rest, 
without  help,  without  consolation  ?  "  she  sighed ;  and  clos 
ing  her  eyes  she  seemed  still  to  feel  the  rocking  and 
swaying  of  the  great  steamship,  and  to  hear  through  its 
rigging  the  hissing  and  screaming  of  the  gale  which  they 
had  encountered  just  off  the  Banks. 

Hut  as  the  hours  passed,  and  Joseph  did  not  return,  Mal- 
cha  arose  and  dressed  the  child  and  herself,  and  began 
preparations  for  breakfast.  The  small  and  ill-lighted 
kitchen,  with  its  range  and  utensils,  which,  to  Malcha's 
Russian  eyes,  were  decidedly  novel  and  complicated,  was 
soon  fragrant  with  the  aroma  of  tea. 

Malcha  had  brought  with  her  a  little  parcel  of  the  delec 
table  herb,  sent  as  a  peace-offering  by  her  mother,  who  had 


BAUMEISTER   IS   HEPELLED  27 

long  disliked  Joseph  because  lie  was  not  a  very  careful  ob 
server  of  Hebrew  religious  customs,  but  who  hud  finally 
yielded  to  her  daughter's  point  of  view.  After  a  little 
searching,  Malcha  found  a  loaf  of  bread,  somewhat  nibbled 
by  adventurous  rats,  on  a  little  shelf;  and  to  this  simple 
repast  she  invited  the  small  Zipporah,  the  two  contentedly 
munching  and  drinking  as  if  they  were  nobles  at  a  feast. 

Presently  Joseph  came  in,  and  the  tears  sprang  to  Mal- 
cha's  eyes  as  she  noted  how  thin  and  wan  he  was.  His 
eyes  were  strained  and  weary;  his  back  was  bent,  as. if  be 
neath  a  load  of  care,  and  there  was  an  unquiet  look  on  his 
face  which  Malcha  had  never  seen  there  before. 

She  threw  her  arms  about  her  husband's  neck,  and  drew 
him  down  beside  her  at  the  little  table  in  the  kitchen, 
where  she  and  the  child  were  eating.  Joseph  placed  his 
hand  caressingly  on  his  wife's  head,  and  gazed  at  her  ten 
derly  for  a  moment ;  then  he  said,  — 

"I  have  been  saving  a  poor  woman  from  being  put  into 
the  street  by  a  pig  of  a  landlord  who  would  not  listen  to 
reason.  But  I  made  him  behave  more  decently.  If  I  had 
not  had  this  to  do,  I  would  not  have  left  you." 

"  Don't  talk  now,  Joseph,"  said  Malcha,  "  but  eat." 

"  Eat  ?  "  he  said  with  a  quaint  smile.  "  What  is  that  ?  I 
don't  eat  any  more.  But  perhaps  I  shall  change  my  habits, 
now  that  you  have  come." 

Malcha  secretly  vowed  that  he  should,  so  far  as  neglect 
ing  his  health  was  concerned,  and  she  rejoiced  to  see  him 
presently  eating  the  bread  and  drinking  the  tea,  and  with 
the  ravenous  appetite  of  one  who  had  not  broken  his  fast 
for  a  long  time. 

"  There  is  no  sugar  for  the  tea,"  said  Malcha  ;  "  perhaps 
there  is  still  a  little  in  my  valise.  It  was  better  to  carry 
our  own  tea  and  sugar  in  that  dreadful  steerage." 

"No,  no,   Malcha,"  said  Joseph,   rising   hastily,  with  a 


28  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

faint  blush  on  his  cheeks;  "I  was  very  thoughtless ;  I  have 
not  provided  the  necessary  things :  let  me  go  at  once  and 
get  them." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort ;  and  you  up  at  four  to  keep 
Mother  Levitsky  from  being  put  on  the  sidewalk  without, 
God  knows,  even  a  three-legged  chair  to  sit  on.  No,  no ; 
not  while  Ben  Zion  has  two  legs !  Let  me  do  the  errand  for 
you." 

And  the  surprised  family  turned  to  see  their  unpreten 
tious  friend  of  the  red  beard  and  the  cavernous  voice  stamp 
ing  across  the  room,  bearing  in  one  hand  an  immense  bunch 
of  savory  new  vegetables,  and  in  the  other  a  little  packet 
of  fish,  which  gave  forth  a  curious  and  somewhat  unpleas 
ant  aroma  each  time  that  the  lively  Ben  Zion  gesticulated 
with  the  hand  containing  it. 

"  I  said  to  myself,"  continued  Ben  Zion,  " '  A  small  fish 
stew,'  says  I,  'is  just  the  thing  to  comfort  the  heart  and  keep 
the  courage  up  ;  and  Joseph's  wife  may  not  have  time,  with 
all  her  unpacking '  — so  if  I  can  turn  to  and  cook  it  for  you, 
or  if  Joseph's  wife  would  condescend,  now  — and  what  can 
1  bring  you  from  out  there  ?"  he  concluded,  pointing  with 
the  fish  to  the  street. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  Joseph,  "  you  are  kindness  itself ; 
but  you  are  poor  like  ourselves,  and  we  cannot  allow  you 
to  pillage  your  push  cart  for  our  benefit." 

"  Dirt  cheap !  I  tell  you  that  was  a  bargain  ! "  cried  Ben 
Zion,  holding  the  fish  flat  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  and  shak 
ing  the  palm  violently.  "  I  bought  'em  in  Fulton  Market, 
where  they  were  going  to  throw  them  away,  those  fish;  and 
they  are  still  as  good  as  gold  !  And  I  says,  '  A  nice  little 
lisli  stew  — just  the  thing'  "  — 

Joseph's  eyes  twinkled ;  and,  as  he  accepted  and  laid  Ben 
Zion's  gifts  away,  a  smile  stole  over  his  weary  features. 
The  fish  were  carefully  placed  at  some  distance  from  the 


BAUMEISTER    IS    REPELLED  29 

vegetables,  and  when  Ben  Zion  had  been  despatched  for  the 
sugar,  Joseph  said,  — 

"  I  think  he  has  come  to  bring  me  some  news.  The 
savory  presents  were  only  a  pretext.  Perhaps  if  you  hear 
what  he  has  to  say  you  will  understand  a  little  better  "  — 

"  I  understand  already,  my  husband,  that  you  are  sacri 
ficing  yourself  for  the  poor  of  our  people.  But  why  do 
they  remain  poor  after  they  get  here  ?  I  thought  that  this 
was  the  land  of  plenty." 

At  this  Joseph  drew  so  long  and  dolorous  a  sigh,  that 
Malcha  forebore  to  question  him  further ;  and  presently 
Ben  Zion  burst  in  again  with,  "  Here's  the  sugar !  And 
what's  this  I  hear !  Another  lock-out  at  Freier  and  Monach's  ! 
Well,  well !  what  will  the  poor  needle  shifters  do  now  ? 
They  can't  eat  dust,  and  what  else  can  they  get  ?  Well, 
God  be  with  us,  as  the  fox  said  to  his  wife  when  the  hounds 
were  after  them  !  And,  Joseph,  I  thought  you  might  like 
to  know  "  —  he  glanced  at  the  wife  and  child,  and  paused. 

"  You  may  speak  before  Malcha.  I  have  no  secrets  from 
my  wife,"  said  Joseph  rather  sharply. 

"  Of  course.  It  was  only  to  say,  Joseph,  that  I  saw  one 
of  those  fools  of  Socialists  last  night,  and  he  said  "  — 

"  Well,  out  with  it,  man  !     What  did  he  say  ?  " 

"He  said  that  you  must  come  over  to  them,  or  they 
would  fill  your  road  so  full  of  rocks  that  you  would  find  it 
hard  walking.  They  say  that  you  are  too  mild,  Joseph, 
and  that  it  is  better  to  use  force." 

"  And  what  is  your  own  opinion,  friend  ?  "  said  Joseph. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Ben  Zion,  scratching  his  red  head  reflect 
ively,  "  that  is  a  grave  question.  I  don't  say  that  if  I  had 
a  capitalist  in  a  corner,  I  wouldn't  squeeze  him.  But  to  try 
driving  a  good  many  hundred  capitalists  into  a  corner  is  quite 
another  thing.  They  say  in  this  country  that  every  man 
ran  get  his  rights  under  the  law,  if  he  works  hard  enough 
for  them.  I  don't  know  how  it  is  "  — 


30  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

"But  you  would  not  advise  me  to  incite  my  poor  op 
pressed  countrymen  to  riot,  even  if  the  Socialists  were  will 
ing  to  lead  them  ?  " 

"  What !  Those  cattle  !  They  would  run  away  when  the 
fighting  began,  and  leave  you  and  your  followers  to  be 
locked  up.  That  is  what  I  think.  But  they  are  going  to 
send  Baumeister  to  argue  with  you  on  the  subject.  They 
say  that  he  imposes  his  will  on  everybody  who  listens  to 
him.  But  I  must  be  off !  Good-by,  Joseph ;  I  thought  I 
would  post  you."  And  bowing  to  Malcha  and  the  child,  he 
withdrew,  but  a  moment  afterward  thrust  his  head  in  at 
the  door  with  the  cry  :  — 

"  Don't  forget  to  sample  them  fish.  They  was  a  great 
bargain." 

Joseph  went  on  munching  his  bread  and  drinking  tea, 
and  looking  thoughtfully  at  the  ceiling;  and  Malcha,  a 
little  reassured  now  that  she  was  once  more  sharing  her 
husband's  confidence,  busied  herself  with  household  duties. 
An  hour  after  Ben  Zion's  departure  Joseph  was  still 
in  the  same  attitude,  with  an  empty  teacup  in  one  hand, 
and  a  crust  in  the  other,  when  there  came  a  loud  knock  at 
the  door.  Joseph  arose  and  opened  it,  and  ushered  in  a 
tall,  ungainly  stranger,  who  bowed  politely,  and  said  with 
a  self-conscious  air :  — 

"I  am  Rudolf  Baumeister.  Am  I  speaking  to  Joseph 
Zalmonah  ?" 

"That  is  my  name,"  said  Joseph,  politely  motioning  the 
visitor  to  a  chair;  "and  there  is  my  wife,  and  that  is  my 
child  Zipporah.  They  arrived  yesterday  from  Russia,  and 
they  think  that  they  have  come  to  a  land  of  promise.  I 
trust  that  Mr.  Rudolf  Baumeister,  the  eminent  Socialist 
leader,  has  not  come  to  say  anything  which  will  undeceive 
them." 

The  visitor  winced  at  Joseph's  remark,  and  muttered 


BAUMEISTER  IS   REPELLED  31 

that  he  should  be  sorry  to  see  any  one  else  undeceived  as 
he  himself  had  been.  "  Perhaps  I  am  disturbing  you?" 
he  added  ;  and  while  Joseph  assured  him  that  he  was  not, 
his  gaze  wandered  over  the  small  and  ill-furnished  room, 
with  Malcha's  poor  valises  still  scattered  about  it ;  with  the 
humble  bed,  the  two  or  three  rickety  chairs,  the  little 
shelves  of  white  pine,  with  Karl  Marx's  "  Kapital,"  and  an 
odd  volume  of  Turguenieff,  and  one  or  two  Hebrew  books 
standing  dejectedly  together,  as  if  discouraged  because  their 
owner  did  not  find  more  time  to  commune  with  them.  His 
thin  lips  curled  slightly  as  he  observed  the  blackened  en 
trance  to  the  small  kitchen,  and  as  he  scented  the  heavy 
and  rancid  odors  which  came  in  from  the  street. 

Malcha  felt  an  invincible  repugnance  to  this  man.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  if  she  remained  in  his  presence  a  minute 
longer  she  might  quarrel  with  him.  She  caught  Zipporah 
up  in  her  arms,  and,  with  a  faint  murmur  of  apology,  opened 
the  door  and  went  out ;  nor  did  Joseph  make  any  effort  to 
detain  her. 

Baumeister  was  well,  but  plainly  dressed,  and  his  long 
nervous  hands  bore  few  marks  of  toil.  He  laid  these  hands 
flat  down  upon  his  knees,  and  seemed  consulting  them 
while  he  was  waiting  for  Joseph  to  reopen  the  conversation. 

But  Joseph  said  nothing,  and  continued  to  munch  frag 
ments  of  the  bread  crust.  At  the  same  time  he  was  care 
fully  studying  his  visitor  with  a  cool  and  patient  analysis 
which  was  slightly  disconcerting. 

He  was  not  pleased  with  his  examination.  Baumeister 
belonged  to  that  class  of  men  which  is  profoundly  egotisti 
cal,  without  knowing  it  —  the  class  which  is  always  serving 
itself  alone,  while  professing  to  serve  others.  The  forehead 
was  high,  and  crowned  with  blond  hair  thrown  carelessly 
back.  The  gaze  was  shifting,  and  at  certain  moments  the 
eyes  had  a  wild  look,  like  that  of  an  animal  about  to  attack. 


32  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

There  was  an  ominous  wrinkle  between  the  brows  of  this 
young  man  of  thirty,  which  seemed  to  indicate  a  perplexed 
condition.  It  also  gave  a  sinister  look  to  the  face.  People 
who  found  Bauineister  gazing  intently  at  them  felt  a  little 
shudder,  and  turned  away  hastily.  He  was  uncanny. 

And  yet  he  was  gracious,  and  almost  charming,  when  he 
began  to  talk  to  Joseph  of  the  business  which  had  dictated 
his  visit.  "  You  speak  of  me  as  a  Socialist,"  he  said  caress 
ingly,  "  but,  my  dear  overworked  enthusiast,  you  are  one 
yourself,  without  knowing  it.  The  only  difference  between 
us  is  that  3'ou  have  not  taken  the  Hannibal  oath  of  eternal 
hatred  to  Rome.  In  other  words,  you  do  not  regard  Society 
as  the  enemy  against  which  one  must  always  tight :  you  are 
trying  the  persuasive  processes;  but  they  will  not  work  ! 
When  they  have  all  failed  you  will  enroll  yourself  with  us. 
And  perhaps  you  will  pardon  me  for  suggesting  that,  in 
view  of  your  recent  and  complete  failure  to  get  higher 
wages  for  the  men  whom  you  have  banded  together,  the 
time  to  join  us  is  now  ! " 

He  arose  as  he  said  this,  and  held  out  one  hand  with  such 
a  magnetic  gesture  of  friendliness  and  fellowship  that  Jo 
seph  was  strongly  moved.  But  he  kept  his  place  opposite 
Baumeister,  and  took  another  bite  of  the  crust. 

"  Who  tells  you  that  we  have  failed  in  our  struggle  for 
fair  wages  ?  "  he  said,  a  moment  later.  "  It  is  too  early  to 
form  any  conclusions  about  that  matter." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Baumeister  with  a  sneer,  "  I  should  have 
thought  that  the  insolence  of  Freier  and  Monach  in  decree 
ing  a  lock-out  as  the  only  response  to  your  starving  stri 
kers  was  a  pretty  conclusive  proof  of  failure.  You  ask  for 
better  wages,  and  the  brutes  offer  you  starvation.  That  is 
the  response  of  Society  —  and  yet  you  persist  in  clinging 
to  Society's  skirts  !  But  the  day  will  come  when  you  will 
be  undeceived." 


BAUMEISTER   IS   REPELLED  33 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Joseph ;  "  but  I  do  not  agree  with 
yon  that  the  greed  and  brutality  of  a  few  hard  taskmasters 
are  to  be  attributed  to  Society.  They  are  able  to  tyrannize 
over  us  because  Society  is  not  vigilant  enough.  Now,  I 
mean  to  wake  up  Society  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth.  Then 
we  shall  see  if  the  wrongs  will  not  be  righted.  If  not"  — 

"  What  then  ?  "  said  Baumeister. 

"  Then  you  may  renew  your  invitation.  For  the  present 
I  do  not  see  my  way  clear  to  accept  it." 

"  Poor  youth ! "  murmured  Baumeister  in  his  softest 
tones.  "  How  cruelly  you  will  be  undeceived  !  Society 
will  turn  upon  you  and  rend  you  ;  will  not  redeem  its  lying 
promises  ;  will  put  you  in  prison,  and  forget  you  there,  if 
you  are  too  bold.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  persuading  a  tiger  ? 
or  coaxing  a  boa-constrictor  to  let  go  its  cruel  hold  ?  Bali ! 
your  bones  will  be  cracked,  and  Society  will  suck  the  mar 
row.  Come,  man !  throw  persuasion  and  such  idle  expedi 
ents  to  the  wind,  and  rally  to  the  '  party  of  force  ' !  With 
us  alone  victory  rests  !  " 

Joseph  arose  and  laid  his  crust  of  bread  upon  the  table. 
His  face  was  pale,  and  his  eyes  glowed  Avith  a  strange  light, 
which  seemed  to  envelop  and  to  awe  Baumeister. 

"No,"  he  said  with  a  sweeping  gesture  which  put  away 
the  tempter  from  him,  "  I  will  not  believe  in  your  doctrine 
until  the  other  means  have  been  given  a  fair  trial !  I  will 
appeal  to  the  press,  to  the  Legislature,  to  the  country !  I 
have  been  hearing  and  learning ;  I  believe  there  are  hands 
ready  to  help  us  —  we  shall  beat  the  sweaters,  and  destroy 
their  slavery  !  But  not  by  the  means  which  you  propose. 
How  do  we  know  that  you  are  sincere  ?  No  !  Let  us  try 
the  proper  means  first !  " 

Baumeister  arose  now,  and  the  wrinkle  between  his 
brows  grew  deeper,  and  his  face  clouded  ominously.  "  I 
was  told,"  he  said,  "  that  you  are  an  obstinate  man,  and 


84  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

now  I  am  quite  sure  of  it.  Listen  to  me !  Our  associa 
tions  in  this  city  are  numerous  and  powerful.  We  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  appeals  to  the  capitalistic  legisla 
tors,  or  the  bloated  officials  enriched  by  coining  the  blood 
and  sweat  of  the  people  !  Do  you  understand  ?  We  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  them.  The  concessions  which  we 
gain  from  Society  must  be  wrung  from  it  by  force  !  And 
you  will  have  to  come  to  our  way  of  thinking.  Perhaps 
we  can  find  means  to  show  you  that  we  have  power  — 
enough  even  to  restrain  youjrom  coquetting  with  Society. 
Good-day !  I  will  see  you  again  when  your  mind  has  been 
changed  by  cruel  experience,"  and  he  took  up  his  hat  and 
turned  to  go. 

"Stop  a  minute  !"  cried  Joseph  in  a  clear,  ringing  voice, 
which  caused  Baumeister  to  turn  in  astonishment. 

Joseph  stood  erect  before  him,  white  and  tremulous,  but 
with  resolution  in  his  gaze.  "  Listen  to  me  !  and,  when  you 
have  heard,  go  and  tell  those  who  sent  you  what  my  mes 
sage  is.  I  came  here  five  years  ago,  with  a  gold  watch  and 
twenty-five  roubles  in  my  pocket  as  my  whole  fortune. 
Like  so  many  others  of  our  poor  refugees,  I  fell  into  this 
hell  of  misery  in  the  sweaters'  dens !  Do  you  know  what 
I  have  suffered  ?  Look  here ! "  he  cried,  pulling  up  his 
coat-sleeve,  and  showing  his  emaciated  arm.  "Look  at 
that !  look  at  my  face  and  chest !  All  this  in  the  short 
space  of  five  years  !  Do  you  know  that  I  have  worked  at 
making  knee-pants  for  sixteen  hours  daily,  under  a  hot 
roof,  with  the  thermometer  at  ninety  degrees  ?  Do  you 
know  that  I  have  fainted  at  the  sewing-machine  time  after 
time  from  hunger  and  exhaustion  ?  Do  you  know  that  the 
man  next  to  me  in  a  sweater's  den  in  Hester  Street,  a  good 
young  fellow  from  Wilnau,  —  he  had  red  cheeks  when  he 
went  into  that  hell,  —  worked  without  rest  or  dinner  or 
supper  for  day  after  day,  until  lie  fell  down  at  the  machine, 


BAUMEISTER   IS    REPELLED  35 

and  I  took  him  to  the  hospital,  and  he  died  there,  talking 
of  green  fields  and  fairy  tales  ?  Do  you  know  that  the 
girls  who  worked  in  the  room  with  me  slaved  seventeen 
hours  every  day,  for  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  week  ?  and  that 
the  slave-driver  abused  and  insulted  them  besides  ?  Do 
you  know  that  I  have  been  so  starved  and  enslaved  that  I 
was  ashamed  and  afraid  to  have  my  wife  come  here,  to  see 
iriy  dreadful  condition  ?  Do  you  know  that  this  meal  of 
bread  and  tea  is  the  most  substantial  one  that  I  have  tasted 
for  days  ?  If  you  know  all  these  things,  you  can  under 
stand  that  I  have  been  tempted  to  violence  quite  as  much 
as  you,  Mr.  Rudolf  Baumeister,  with  your  half-dozen  steins 
of  beer  and  your  comfortable  supper  every  evening.  And 
now  I  tell  you  once  for  all  — our  paths  separate  here  !  If  I 
had  to  go  through  again  all  that  I  have  suffered  in  these  last 
five  terrible  years,  I  would  not  yield  to  the  temptation  that 
you  lay  before  me,  and  I  would  scorn  and  spit  upon  your 
conspiracy.  Go  your  way,  and  let  me  and  mine  go  ours  !  " 

"Poor  deluded  Joseph,"  said  Baumeister,  with  an  evil 
smile.  "  I  wish  I  could  remember  all  this  fine  tirade. 
I  should  make  a  sensation  by  repeating  it.  I  think  we 
understand  each  other." 

Joseph  closed  his  eyes,  and  did  not  open  them  until  he 
heard  the  door  creak  softly.  Baumeister  was  gone. 

Presently  Malcha  came  in  with  the  child,  and  little 
Zipporah  clung  to  Joseph's  legs,  and  asked  him  why  he  had 
been  shouting. 

"At  a  silly  man,  my  dear,"  he  answered.  And  when 
Malcha  said  she  had  watched  Baumeister's  exit,  and  that 
he  had  looked  as  black  as  the  Devil  deprived  of  his  prey, 
Joseph  smiled  and  said,  — 

"  Either  he  is  a  fool,  or  I  am  one.  Time  will  decide." 
And  he  asked  for  some  more  tea,  and  began  munching  his 
crusts  of  bread  again. 


36  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   WORLD   IS   A   WEDDING 

MALCHA  opened  her  eyes  widely,  and  hesitated,  as,  cling 
ing  to  her  husband's  arm,  she  turned  a  corner  whence  she 
could  see  the  glow  and  glitter  of  Grand  Street  in  its 
Saturday  night  gala  dress.  She  had  never  seen  a  really 
large  city  before :  the  momentary  glimpses  which  she  had 
had  of  Hamburg  and  Glasgow  could  scarcely  rank  as 
views ;  and  the  hurrying  throngs,  the  floods  of  electric 
light,  the  incessant  yelling  and  bawling  of  the  children, 
the  squeaking  and  clattering  of  the  elevated  trains,  as  well 
as  the  uncouth  language  and  straggling  gait  of  some 
drunken  ruffians  who  passed  near  her,  alarmed  her  more 
than  she  cared  to  say.  A  look  at  the  diminutive  Zipporah, 
who  had  blotted  herself  almost  out  of  sight  in  her  mother's 
voluminous  skirts,  convinced  Malcha  that  her  fright  was 
shared  by  her  offspring. 

Br-r-r !  Clang !  Clang !  Clang !  There  was  a  rush  of 
wheels  rebounding  from  the  irregular  pavement,  and  send 
ing  forth  showers  of  sparks;  there  was  a  vivid  accom 
paniment  of  horses'  hoofs ;  then  a  fiery  dragon  seemed  to 
hurtle  forward,  followed  by  a  motley  throng.  Malcha 
turned  to  flee.  It  seemed  to  her  that  if  she  remained 
longer  in  that  spot  she  might  suffocate. 

Suddenly  she  felt  a  gentle  pull  at  her  arm. 

"Come  along,  Malcha,"  said  Joseph,  "unless  you  prefer 


THE  WORLD   IS   A   WEDDING  37 

be  late  at  the  wedding.  What !  Are  you  afraid  ?  The 
fire-engines  will  not  eat  you.  They  are  very  useful.  We 
may  need  them  at  any  time." 

And  he  told  her  how  great  conflagrations  from  time  to 
time  ate  out  the  hearts  of  populous  districts,  leaving 
dozens  of  families  homeless,  suffocating  poor  people  in 
their  beds,  ruining  the  precious  stocks  of  starveling  me 
chanics,  who  could  never  get  up  in  the  world  again.  He 
told  her  how  the  firemen  came  bounding  to  the  houses  in 
flames,  and  how  they  smashed  windows  and  hacked  away 
doors,  and  bravely  risked  their  lives  to  save  men  and 
women  stupefied  by  the  smoke ;  but  how  the  city  never  by 
any  chance  seemed  to  do  anything  to  protect  its  inhabit 
ants  against  the  dread  contingency  of  fire.  "A  few  more 
solidly  built  houses,"  said  Joseph,  "  and  a  few  less  fire- 
engines,  and  we  should  get  along  just  as  well." 

It  was  Saturday,  the  evening  of  the  day  after  Baumeister's 
visit  to  Joseph,  and  the  Jewish  Sabbath.  Neither  Joseph 
nor  his  wife  paid  much  attention  to  the  ordinary  obser 
vances  of  the  Hebrew  church  calendar,  although  Malcha 
still  had  a  yearning  toward  them.  Joseph's  "  emancipa 
tion,"  as  he  called  it,  dated  from  the  beginning  of  his 
earliest  readings  in  general  literature  ;  but  he  now  and  then 
was  seen  in  a  synagogue,  and  was  a  close  attendant  on  the 
wedding  festivals  in  the  humble  class  whose  cause  he  had 
espoused.  "  I  never  see  them  laugh  anywhere  else,"  he 
once  said  to  David.  "  At  your  theatre  they  sit  as  solemn 
as  moujiks  in  a  row,  waiting  to  be  whipped.  But  then 
you  always  play  such  terribly  doleful  pieces,  that  your 
theatre  is  like  the  valley  of  Lamentations  ! " 

Malcha  was  glad  to  go  to  the  wedding  —  if  for  no  other 
reason,  that  she  might  see  lifted  from  her  husband's 
brow  the  cloud  which  had  been  there  since  Baumeister's 
visit.  But  had  she  been  alone  she  would  certainly  have 


38  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

fled  in  terror  before  the  accumulated  obstacles  of  Grand 
Street. 

Beneath  the  glow  of  double  lines  of  electric  light  two 
steadily  moving  columns  of  people  on  either  side  of  the 
street  presented  themselves  to  Malcha's  vision.  There  was 
nothing  in  the  types  of  humanity  seen  in  them  to  surprise 
Malcha;  for  most  of  them  were  German  or  Austrian,  or 
Polish  or  Russian,  Jewish  or  Italian.  Here  Demos  from 
beyond  the  sea  holds  complete  control.  The  American  of 
the  Eastern  States,  the  suave  Middle-States  man,  the  ner- 
'vous  trader  of  the  West,  are  rarely  seen  in  Grand  Street. 
An  American  name  upon  a  sign  looks  as  odd  as  the  Hebrew 
lettering  would  seem  to  the  inhabitants  of  a  quiet  village 
in  Western  New  York.  Malcha  saw  with  astonishment 
the  hundreds  of  young  men  and  women  of  her  own  race, 
stepping  briskly  along,  some  of  them  making  a  brave 
display  of  finery.  They  spoke  the  jargon  of  her  native 
province ;  they  were  unchanged,  save  in  a  nameless  some 
thing  in  the  demeanor,  which  seemed  to  be  communicated 
by  the  air  of  the  New  World.  No  trace  of  their  old 
servile  attitude  was  to  be  found.  "  They  walk,"  said 
Malcha  to  Joseph,  "  as  if  they  already  owned  the  country." 

"Everybody  walks  that  way  here,"  answered  Joseph. 
"  But  it  does  not  have  much  to  do  with  owning  the  country 
in  fact,  I  can  tell  you.  Especially  in  the  case  of  our 
people."  And  he  sighed. 

After  a  long  walk,  at  the  end  of  which  little  Zipporah 
insisted  upon  going  to  sleep,  still  clinging  to  her  mother's 
skirts,  and  had  to  be  committed,  an  inert  mass,  to  Joseph's 
sheltering  arms,  they  reached  a  narrow  door  in  a  rickety 
looking  block,  and  climbed  a  steep  staircase,  at  the  head  of 
which  a  small  doorkeeper,  armed  with  a  police  club,  sud 
denly  loomed  up  like  a  Jack-in-the-Box,  and  extended  his 
hand,  as  if  to  take  the  guests'  invitations,  and  scan  them. 


THE    WORLD    IS    A   WEDDING  39 

But  his  stern  features  relaxed  into  a  broad  grin  as  he  saw1 
Joseph,  and,  patting  him  in  a  friendly  manner  on  the 
shoulder  with  the  club,  he  escorted  the  little  family  to  a 
rickety  settee  just  under  the  lee  of  a  platform  on  Avhich 
stood  a  small  piano,  at  the  upper  entrance  to  a  long  dan 
cing  hall  with  waxed  and  polished  floor.  Here  he  begged 
them  to  remain  until  the  arrival  of  the  wedding  party. 

The  cushioned  benches  on  either  side  of  this  hall  were 
occupied  by  various  dark-haired  mammas  and  their  brown 
daughters,  some  of  whom  were  dowered  with  lustrous 
Jewish  beauty ;  with  groups  of  children  who  talked  in  soft 
voices  and  made  profuse  gestures,  and  who  now  and  then 
slid  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  gradually  warmed  up 
to  a  boisterous  game,  which  provoked  peals  of  laughter. 

When  the  confusion  was  at  its  height,  the  small  police 
man  came  rushing  in,  and,  pounding  violently  on  the  floor 
with  his  club,  cried,  "  Set  down!"  an  injunction  which 
the  children  instantly  obeyed,  only  to  disobey  it  again  the 
moment  the  policeman's  back  was  turned,  so  that  they 
seemed  to  be  playing  at  hide-and-seek  with  him. 

Presently  the  piano  and  the  violin  on  the  platform  be 
hind  Joseph  and  his  family  ventured  to  hold  sweet  and 
rhythmical  discourse,  and  the  young  girls  began  waltzing 
together,  their  willowy  bodies  turning  and  swaying  grace 
fully  to  quaint  measures  which  had  a  gypsy  twang.  The 
girls  were  nearly  all  Russians,  although  here  and  there  the 
sparkling  eyes  and  handsome  forehead  of  a  Polish  damsel 
were  to  be  seen.  Most  of  the  faces  would  have  been  pretty 
had  it  not  been  for  the  shadow  of  hunger  upon  them  •— 
hunger  for  the  decent  food  which  they  never  succeeded  in 
getting;  hunger  for  a  richer  and  a  better  life  than  the 
horrible  sweaters'  hell  of  eighteen  hours  of  daily  toil. 

There  was  a  baleful  glitter  in  the  pretty  eyes  of  some  of 
these  girls.  It  augured  bad  things  if  they  were  ever  to  be 


40  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

allowed  the  chance  to  avenge  themselves  on  the  Society 
which  had  kept  them  so  cruelly  down.  There  were  lines 
in  their  faces  which  seemed  furrows  left  by  tears. 

Half  an  hour  passed  thus,  Joseph  sitting  musingly 
silent,  with  little  Zipporah  clinging  to  his  knee,  and 
Malcha  attentively  examining  every  living  object  which 
came  within  her  scope.  The  dark-faced  violinist,  a  di 
minutive  man  with  a  handsome,  sensual  face  and  soft, 
caressing  manners,  attracted  her  attention,  and  he  looked 
at  her  curiously,  as  if  he  would  claim  an  acquaintance. 
But  she  could  not  remember  that  she  had  ever  seen  him 
before.  She  was  about  to  ask  Joseph  if  he  remembered 
such  a  man,  when  the  masculine  members  of  the  bridal 
party  came  hurrying  in,  and  at  once  grouped  about  Joseph 
with  apologies.  Already  eight  o'clock,  was  it  ?  And  the 
wedding  appointed  for  seven  !  But  at  the  last  minute  Wolf 
Zablinski,  the  bride's  father,  could  not  be  found,  and  they 
could  not  proceed  without  him !  Some  one  had  finally 
located  him  at  his  carpenter's  shop,  where  he  had  gone  to 
give  directions  about  the  business  of  the  morrow,  entirely 
forgetting  his  daughter's  nuptials.  Now  all  should  proceed 
in  good  order. 

The  ushers  were  neatly  dressed  in  black,  with  white  vests 
and  ties,  and  the  lapels  of  their  coats  were  decorated  with 
enormous  badges.  They  carried  tall  hats  in  their  hands, 
and  were  fond  of  grouping  themselves  at  the  side,  near  the 
damsels  on  the  benches,  and  discussing  gravely  together,  or 
striking  attitudes,  in  all  of  which  the  badge  figured  for  its 
full  value. 

And  now  came  the  rabbi,  plainly  dressed  in  a  frock  coat, 
a  pair  of  striped  trousers,  and  a  hat  which  could  certainly 
have  furnished  abundant  reminiscences  of  1830,  if  hats 
could  speak  or  write.  The  rabbi  bestowed  his  box  of  mar 
riage  paraphernalia  in  a  corner,  carefully  hung  the  wonder- 


THE   WOULD  IS  A  WEDDING  41 

fill  liat  on  a  nail  inaccessible  even  to  the  tallest  of  the 
children,  and  clothed  his  cranium  MI  a  small  skull-cap. 

He  then  received  the  greetings  of  the  members  of  the 
bridal  party,  extending  to  each  his  hand  with  frosty  dignity, 
and  seeming  quite  relieved  each  time  he  got  his  hand  back 
again,  as  though  he  suspected  some  one  of  the  party  of  a 
design  to  purloin  it.  Meantime  the  piano  and  the  violin 
were  getting  quite  religious,  and  played  so  slowly  and 
mournfully  that  they  disorganized  the  dancers,  who  re 
sumed  their  seats. 

In  a  small  carpeted  room,  separated  from  the  main  hall 
by  a  little  antechamber,  sat  the  bride,  supported  on  right 
and  left  by  her  mother,  her  aunts  and  cousins,  and  with 
her  brothers  and  sisters  near  her.  A  dozen  great  candles 
shed  a  steady  light  upon  this  little  company  of  white-robed 
women  and  children,  and  brought  out  in  strong  relief  the 
anxious  look  in  the  bride's  plain,  wholesome  Jewish  face. 
The  women  talked  in  an  undertone,  and  were  doubtless 
criticising  the  dress  and  demeanor  of  the  male  members  of 
the  party,  while  the  children  hitched  restlessly  on  the  little 
stools,  and  longed  for  the  procession  to  begin. 

At  last  it  was  coming !  Joseph  and  his  family  came  to 
offer  their  congratulations  to  Liza,  the  bride,  and  then  to 
follow  in  her  train.  And  now  came  the  "  chuppah,"  the 
four-cornered  canopy,  supported  by  rods  held  in  the  hands 
of  the  ushers,  with  the  rabbi  leading  the  way,  the  bride 
groom,  a  slender  young  man  in  evening  dress,  following  in 
the  wake  of  Wolf  Zablinski,  the  carpenter  who  had  forgot 
ten  that  it  was  his  daughter's  wedding  day. 

And  when  this  goodly  company  of  men,  their  faces  aglow 
,vith  the  excitement  of  th"  occasion,  and  their  costumes 
glittering  in  the  candlelight,  came  opposite  to  the  women, 
and  halted  for  them  to  join  the  procession,  poor  Liza,  the 
bride,  felt  ready  to  faint  with  pride  and  delight. 


42  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

She  arose,  and,  guided  by  the  bridegroom,  took  her  place 
beneath  the  chuppah,  whereupon  the  whole  company  set 
forth,  and  returned,  with  the  gleam  of  its  candles  reflected 
in  the  polished  flooring,  to  the  lower  end  of  the  hall. 

The  rabbi  took  off  his  skull-cap,  folded  his  left  hand  over 
his  right,  as  if  still  apprehensive  that  some  one  might  get 
it,  and  emitted  from  his  lips  a  long  ululation,  followed  by 
a  gush  of  sibilant  phrases,  the  whole  in  a  high  key  and  a 
strained,  unnatural  voice. 

Holding  his  head  thrown  back,  and  keeping  his  eyes  closed, 
he  continued  the  weird  chanting  for  some  time,  and  the 
little  company  whispered  to  each  other  that  "  tins  was 
ancient  Hebrew."  The  bride  stood  up,  quite  radiant,  in 
the  centre  of  the  company,  and  the  glare  of  the  candles 
gave  a  blue-black  lustre  to  the  massive  dark  braids  of  her 
hair,  crowned  with  orange  blossoms. 

At  last  the  rabbi  came  out  of  ancient  Hebrew  and  down 
to  earth  and  to  modern  times  again,  and  performed  the  sim 
ple  ceremony  with  the  wonted  accessories  of  the  goblet  of 
wine,  from  which  both  bride  and  bridegroom  drank,  the 
rabbi  crushing  the  glass  afterwards  under  his  heel,  that  no 
man  might  say  thereafter,  "  I  have  drunk  from  their  wed 
ding  glass."  And  at  the  close  he  handed  the  bride  her 
marriage  contract,  duly  signed  and  attested,  with  the  re 
mark,  "  Take  care  of  it.  It  is  good  for  one  hundred  and 
twenty -five  years  ! "  at  which  time-worn  joke  even  the 
wearied  features  of  Joseph  shaped  themselves  into  a  smile, 
and  he  remarked,  — 

"  The  bride  is  evidently  not  employed  by  the  sweaters, 
or  she  would  not  expect  to  live  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  years  ! " 

Then  there  were  kissings  and  hand-shakings  ;  and  just  as 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  were  returning  together  to  the 
inner  chamber,  beneath  the  august  canopy  of  the  chuppah, 


THE   WORLD   IS   A   WEDDING  43 

David  appeared  in  their  path,  accompanied  by  little  Miryam. 
Joseph  and  Malcha  beckoned  to  them,  but  at  that  moment 
there  was  a  loud  crash  of  cymbals  on  the  musicians'  plat 
form.  This  was  the  signal  that  the  wedding  was  over  and 
that  dancing  might  begin,  and  in  another  minute  the 
fat  mammas  and  the  lean  daughters,  the  bearded  papas  and 
the  sallow  sons,  and  even  the  olive-cheeked  children  with 
the  preternaturally  aged  faces  were  off  in  the  voluptuous 
whirl,  floating,  circling,  and  returning  upon  their  airy  steps 
like  veritable  sprites  of  air.  When  at  last  the  elders 
sank  panting  and  palpitating  upon  the  benches,  the  chil- 
tlren,  more  especially  little  Simon,  aged  four,  a  strapping 
baby  boy  with  a  voice  like  a  young  tornado,  and  tiny  Sarah, 
an  ethereal  child  with  dark  ringlets  and  the  blackest  of 
eyes,  seemed  determined  to  keep  it  up  ;  and  young  Baruch 
a  carpenter's  apprentice,  who  had  been  in  the  country  for 
five  years,  and  had  already  learned  to  "  talk  Bowery,"  and 
a  fat  girl  in  a  red  gown,  seconded  the  children  in  their 
noisy  sport.  Baruch  and  his  partner  thumped  against 
the  rabbi  so  ponderously  that  the  good  man  fled  precipi 
tately.  Simon  and  Sarah  waltzed  in  and  out  through  the 
bridal  party  with  such  fantastic  steps  and  such  merry  peals 
of  laughter  that  the  short  policeman  once  more  rushed 
upon  the  scene  with  dramatic  flourishes  of  his  club,  and 
loud  cries  of  "Set  down  ! "  This  ruffled  the  temper  of 
Baruch,  who  had  already  acquired  the  American  impa 
tience  of  restraint ;  and  depositing  his  partner  on  a  bench 
he  sprang  for  the  policeman,  and,  disarming  him  of  his 
baton,  cried,  — 

"  Set  down  yourself,  you  big  chump !  You  ain't  goin' 
to  do  no  settin'  down  here,  see  ?  Now  go  and  lose  your 
self  ! " 

And  blows  would  have  followed  words,  had  not  Joseph 
at  this  juncture  interposed,  and  reminded  the  pugnacious 


44  JOSEPH    ZALMONAII 

Barueh  that  he  would  lose  his  share  in  the  excellent 
supper  soon  to  follow,  if  he  indulged  in  fisticuffs.  Upon 
this  order  was  restored,  and  Joseph  and  Malcha  managed 
to  reach  David  and  the  little  Miryam. 

" '  The  world  is  a  wedding,'  says  our  Jewish  proverb," 
remarked  David,  when  they  were  near  enough  to  hear. 
"  And  indeed  it  seems  true,  when  I  think  of  the  number 
of  matings  I  have  seen  in  this  very  hall.  Ah  !  the  rabbi's 
business  is  never  dull !  And  the  untyings  are  rather  brisk 
too,  I  am  told.  Well !  well !  '  all  the  blessings  of  a  house 
hold  come  through  a  wife.'  " 

David  was  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  joked  and  laughed 
so  freely  that  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  him.  But  Miryam 
was  sombre  and  disturbed  by  some  sorrow,  and  from  time 
to  time  she  looked  upon  Joseph  with  a  strange,  far-away 
gaze,  as  if  she  were  dreaming.  And  when  Malcha  drew 
her  aside,  and  sat  down  in  a  corner  to  chat,  the  girl  leaned 
her  head  upon  the  friendly  shoulder  and  began  to  weep. 

"  What  is  it,  Miryam  ?  "  queried  Malcha.  "  What  ails 
the  poor  heart  ?  " 

But  nothing  would  Miryam  answer  until,  half  an  hour 
later,  she  confided  to  Malcha  that  she  had  overheard  a 
member  of  the  theatrical  company  making  threats  against 
Joseph,  and  saying  that  he  would  be  "  done  up "  yet, 
because  he  interfered  with  the  plans  of  the  "  force  party." 
Malcha  listened  with  a  new  fear  growing  in  her  heart,  but 
with  a  robust  confidence  that  Joseph  would  be  able  to 
triumph  over  all  his  enemies  doing  battle  with  that  fear. 

While  the  women  were  endeavoring  to  console  each 
other,  Joseph  and  David  climbed  a  second  flight  of  rickety 
stairs,  in  search  of  a  man  whom  David  wished  to  see.  "  We 
shall  find  him  in  his  lodge-room,"  he  said.  They  paused 
iu  a  shabby  antechamber,  and  knocked  at  a  rude  door  in 
the  rough  brick  wall.  A  little  wicket  in  the  upper  half  of 


THE   WORLD   IS   A   WEDDING  45 

the  door  opened,  and  disclosed  so  comely  a  face  and  such 
a  magnificent  pair  of  black  eyes  that  for  an  instant  Joseph 
was  as  dazzled  as  if  he  had  been  looking  at  the  sun. 

The  wicket  was  instantly  closed. 

"  Whew  !  "  said  David  with  a  whimsical  grimace.  "  That 
is  Bathsheba.  What  is  she  doing  there  ?  " 

The  door  now  swung  open,  and  David  and  Joseph  en 
tered  a  long  room  almost  the  counterpart  of  the  dancing- 
hall  below.  It  was  roughly-  furnished  with  an  old  desk 
and  a  few  chairs  which  had  once  been  ornamental,  but 
which  would  then  have  fetched  in  the  auction-room  hardly 
a  dollar  for  the  lot  of  two  or  three  dozen.  In  these  chairs 
were  seated  a  score  of  dark-haired,  pale-faced  young  men, 
all  of  whom  seemed  overcome  with  fatigue.  They  were 
neatly  dressed,  but  their  thin  features,  their  scarred  fingers 
blackened  with  toil  told  the  story.  These  were  the  un 
happy  "  sweated  "  workers  whose  lot  Joseph  was  striving 
to  ameliorate  ;  and  they  had  come  from  their  day  of  crush 
ing  work  direct  to  the  lodge-room  to  hold  their  weekly 
meeting.  There  were  some  among  them  who  could  fight 
off  sleep  no  longer,  having  been  up  and  at  work  since  four 
in  the  morning  ;  and,  lying  motionless  in  their  chairs,  they 
looked  not  unlike  the  victims  of  some  enchantment  which 
had  condemned  them  suddenly  to  immobility.  Their  sleep 
was  so  dense,  it  was  the  expression  of  such  utter  fatigue, 
that  it  was  almost  frightful.  It  hurt  Joseph  to  contem 
plate  it. 

The  "  lodge  "  was  one  of  the  innumerable  Hebrew  co 
operative  institutions  which  do  so  much  credit  to  the  heads 
and  hearts  of  the  Jewish  population ;  and  each  of  the  poor 
waifs  from  Russia  who  owned  membership  in  it  felt  that  it 
gave  him  a  better  grip  on  the  future,  and  a  partial  guar 
anty  against  want.  The  meeting  was  just  over,  and  David 
found  his  man,  and  had  a  brief  interview  with  him. 


46  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Meantime  Joseph  was  contemplating  the  face  which 
had  so  dazzled  him  when  he  caught  a  fleeting  glimpse  of  it 
through  the  wicket.  He  could  not  have  taken  his  eyes 
from  the  face  if  he  had  wished  to  do  so.  A  subtle  and 
mysterious  enchantment  seemed  to  flow  from  the  woman's 
gaze,  and  to  envelop  him  like  a  garment,  as  she  turned  her 
great  dark  eyes  to  him,  and  appeared  to  take  a  mis 
chievous  pleasure  in  compelling  him  to  look  at  her. 

The  woman  was  standing  near  the  door,  and  talking  in 
an  undertone  with  a  tall  youth,  mostly  legs  and  shoulders, 
who  listened  reverently  to  her.  She  was  of  medium  height, 
exquisitely  proportioned,  and  with  the  full  and  rounded 
outlines  so  common  to  Jewish  beauty.  Her  face  was  fault 
lessly  perfect,  save  for  the  note  of  sensualism  in  it,  which 
jarred  on  one's  sense  of  propriety.  It  took  away  the 
ethereal  grace  which  should  have  been  seated  on  such  a 
divinely  beautiful  low  brow,  in  such  star-like  eyes,  and  on 
the  dainty  lips  and  voluptuous  chin.  The  black  hair  was 
combed  smoothly  down  in  the  sweet  old  fashion  universal 
before  a  perverted  generation  knew  the  folly  of  "  bangs." 
The  noble  form  was  draped  in  a  long  silk  coat  lined  with 
gray  fur,  which,  thrown  back  from  the  shapely  shoulders, 
disclosed  a  plain  and  inexpensive  robe,  from  the  hem  of 
which  coarse  shoes  peeped  out.  The  hat  which  crowned 
the  Juno-like  head  was  neither  new  nor  in  the  fashion, 
and  in  both  cloak  and  hat  there  lay  the  confession  of  pinch 
ing  poverty ;  for  it  was  in  the  early  summer,  when  furs 
were  no  longer  tolerable,  and  when  a  fresh  spring  hat  was 
an  imperative  need  for  every  woman.  Despite  the  dingi- 
ness  of  her  attire,  the  splendid  creature  held  herself  as 
erect  as  if  she  were  a  queen,  and  Joseph  were  a  courtier 
offering  homage. 

Joseph  felt  a  sense  of  relief  when  David  was  ready  to 
go,  and  when  the  enveloping  gaze  was  lifted  from  him. 


THE   WORLD   IS    A   WEDDING  47 

"  What  glorious  eyes,  eh? "  said  David  as  they  went 
down-stairs. 

"  Who  is  that  woman  ?  "  asked  Joseph  slowly. 

"  Bathsheba.  I  thought  I  told  you.  I  forget  her  other 
name.  She  is  the  wife  of  the  dark-faced  fiddler  whom 
you  saw  on  the  platform  down-stairs.  Yes,  she  is  one  of 
our  own  people.  Her  father  is  very  rich,  but  has  cut  her 
off  altogether  because  she  insisted  on  marrying  the  fiddler. 
She  married  him  —  at  a  loss,  so  the  gossips  say,  of  a  hun 
dred  thousand  roubles,  and  they  came  here.  At  first  he 
made  a  good  living ;  now  it  is  not  so  good.  A  nice  misery 
ahead,  eh  ?  Well !  well !  '  the  world  is  a  wedding,'  as  I 
said  before,  and  'a  myrtle  in  the  desert  remains  a  myrtle 
still.'  Bathsheba  is  a  proof  of  it.  And  is  she  not  a  fine- 
looking  witch?  I  am  sure  that  with  those  eyes  she  can  see 
into  our  souls,  and  can  read  the  secrets  of  fate.  She  is 
ambitious.  They  say  that  she  is  a  Socialist.  I'll  venture 
to  say  that  she  was  talking  Socialism  to  that  tall  youth 
when  we  came  in.  What  do  you  think  of  her  ?  " 

"I  think  that  if  she  talks  it  with  her  eyes,  it  will 
be  more  effective  than  if  she  preaches  it  with  her  lips." 

Then  they  went  back  into  the  dancing-hall,  and  rejoined 
the  wedding  party. 


48  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  V 

• 
"JUDITH  AND  HOLOFERNUS" 

SOFT,  brooding  music  of  flutes  and  violins,  now  murmur 
ing  as  in  prayer,  now  long  drawn  out  as  in  lamentation, 
filled  the  air,  and  seemed  to  the  wearied  Joseph  and  Malcha 
like  some  strange  incantation  to  charm  them  to  repose. 

They  were  seated,  with  little  Zipporah  between  them,  in 
one  corner  of  a  huge,  rambling  box  iu  that  old-fashioned 
theatre  in  the  Bowery  in  which  David  was  chief  artificer 
of  the  plays.  David  had  invited  them  on  the  evening  of 
the  wedding,  and  had  won  Joseph  from  his  melancholy, 
and  from  his  determination  to  engage  in  no  amusement,  by 
telling  him  that  his  presence  would  aid  the  cause  of  the 
Benevolent  Union,  which  had  purchased  the  house  on  that 
particular  evening,  and  was  giving  a  "benefit." 

"  For  benevolence,  you  know,"  added  David,  falling  back, 
from  unconscious  habit,  upon  an  ancient  proverb,  "  is  one 
of  the  pillars  upon  which  the  world  rests." 

Joseph  did  not  need  to  be  told  what  benevolence  was, 
for  he  had  been  exercising  it  all  day,  even  to  the  minute 
before  going  to  the  theatre ;  and  it  was  because  he  gave  his 
last  half-dollar  to  a  needy  pedler,  who  professed  to  be 
starving,  that  he  and  his  were  obliged  to  walk  to  the 
theatre.  "Never  mind,"  said  Joseph,  "to-morrow  I  shall 
have  some  money  returned  to  me."  And  he  would  not  let 
Malcha  use  any  of  the  tiny  store  of  cash  which  she  had 


"JUDITH   AND   HOLOFERNUS"  49 

brought  from  Russia.  "  We  will  keep  that  for  emergency 
day,"  he  said. 

Malcha  smiled  faintly,  and  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  that 
day  were  not  far  off. 

The  house  was  in  shadow.  From  the  sole  gallery  came 
rustling  and  murmurs,  interspersed  with  occasional  laughter 
and  guttural  remarks  in  jargon,  which  proclaimed  the 
presence  of  a  strong  contingent  of  juvenile  cloakmakers. 
Those  pallid,  sharp-eyed,  thick-lipped,  lean  and  scrawny 
slaves  of  the  needle  managed  to  scrape  from  their  miserable 
pittances  money  enough  to  see  most  of  David's  new  plays. 

But  now  and  then,  when  the  piece  was  unusually  long 
and  exhausting,  this  juvenile  contingent,  having  been  out 
of  bed  since  four  in  the  morning,  fell  asleep,  and  then  the 
snoring  of  the  lines  of  sleepers  interrupted  the  tirades  of 
Hebrew  heroines  and  the  songs  and  recitatives  of  Jewish 
generals  of  olden  time. 

A  faint  odor,  too,  as  of  new  cloth  which  is  stirred  and 
handled,  characterized  the  throng  in  this  gallery.  This 
was  not  wonderful,  inasmuch  as  the  overworked  band 
certainly  passed  seventeen  hours  out  of  every  twenty-four 
in  the  "  sweaters' "  shops,  where  the  huge  piles  of  freshly 
made  garments  sent  up  a  rank  smell,  poisonous  to  the  lungs, 
yet  carefully  confined  to  the  room,  in  which  windows 
were  rarely  thrown  open  save  in  the  excessive  heats  of 
July  and  August. 

In  the  parquette  there  were  thoughtful  faces  of  men  and 
women  making  their  first  experience  of  poverty  ;  men  and 
women  who  found  in  the  newly  created  theatre  —  in  which 
the  panorama  of  ancient  Jewish  life  was  slowly  unrolled 
before  them  —  much  consolation  for  their  woes  in  exile. 
Some  of  these  faces  were  delicate,  almost  aristocratic,  and 
accorded  strangely  with  the  poor  and  shabby  garments 
which  their  owners  wore. 


50  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Others  were  sordid,  cunning,  malicious,  Oriental  in 
feature,  and  almost  wolfish  in  their  manner  of  looking  about, 
as  if  in  search  of  prey.  There  were  jolly  families  which 
had  known  how  to  remain  jolly  after  being  brutally  ex 
pelled  from  their  homes  in  Russia,  marched  in  manacles 
across  the  frozen  wastes,  or  herded  in  fourth-class  cars 
like  cattle  until  they  reached  the  frontier,  when  they  began 
an  era  of  wandering  in  misery  and  affliction  which  might 
well  have  broken  the  courage  of  a  stouter  folk.  Landed 
in  America,  and  hurled  upon  a  labor  market  ten  times 
overstocked  by  oppressed  beings  like  themselves,  they  yet 
managed  to  get  a  living,  and,  on  rare  occasions,  to  patronize 
David's  establishment. 

Scattered  through  the  audience  were  lean,  bilious  men 
with  dark  flowing  beards,  and  eyes  which  had  a  fierce 
glow.  These  were  the  Socialist  scribes  and  agitators  who 
keep  up  a  constant  crusade  against  capital,  and  who  print 
in  their  tiny  Hebrew  papers,  issued  from  the  recesses  of 
some  East  Side  street,  strange  prophecies  as  to  what  the 
"  party  of  force "  will  do  when  the  time  shall  come.  In 
the  best  corner  seats  sat  "contractors,"  magnificent  in  new 
and  comfortable  raiment,  and  wearing  an  air  of  complete 
innocence,  as  if  the  blood  of  the  oppressed  did  not  cry  to 
Heaven  against  them. 

Nothing  pleased  David  better  than  from  time  to  time 
to  put  upon  his  stage  a  local  play,  in  which  real  life  was 
copied  with  as  scrupulous  fidelity  as  was  consistent  with 
freedom  from  criminal  libel.  In  these  plays  he  pilloried 
" sweaters"  and  "contractors,"  and  pictured  the  horrors  of 
the  dens  with  such  force  that  on  one  occasion  a  contractor 
left  the  house  precipitately,  fearing  that  if  he  stayed  a  few 
moments  longer  the  audience  would  rise  against  him. 

In  the  less  expensive  seats  were  lines  of  young  girls,  deli 
cate  of  form,  and  with  bowed  frames  and  pale  cheeks  which 


"JUDITH   AND   HOLOFERNUS"  51 

told  of  prolonged  toil.  Their  intensely  black  hair  and  eyes, 
their  red  lips,  and  a  certain  indefinable  Orientalism  in  their 
features,  proclaimed  them  as  Hebrews  from  Southern  Russia. 
These  pretty  creatures  were,  like  the  youth  in  the  gallery, 
almost  worn  out  with  labor.  But  they  managed  to  bestow 
feverish  attention  on  every  detail  of  the  play  the  moment 
that  the  curtain  was  raised. 

All  these  types  were  recognized  by  Joseph's  practised  eye 
as  soon  as  the  lights  were  turned  up,  and  the  baker's  dozen 
of  musicians  in  the  orchestra  began  a  curious  prelude,  full  of 
quavers,  to  the  romantic  historical  opera  of  "  Judith  and 
Holofernus,"  in  four  acts  and  ten  scenes,  with  musical 
interludes  and  dances. 

The  old  musicians  bent  lovingly  to  their  work.  There  was 
one  violinist  with  silvered  hair  who  especially  interested 
Joseph,  for  he  worked  with  as  great  solemnity  and  pious 
fervor  as  if  "  Judith  and  Holofernus  "  were  a  holy  mystery 
play. 

And  now  the  curtain  rose,  and  Malcha  uttered  a  little  cry 
of  delight,  for  she  had  never  seen  anything  like  this  in 
Russia ;  the  Jewish  jargon  theatre  is  not  yet  twenty  years 
old ;  nor  was  she  prepared  for  anything  so  poetical  and 
charming. 

In  the  centre  of  the  stage  stood  an  old  man  with  long 
white  hair  and  beard,  and  clad  in  robes  of  dark  hue. 
He  was  addressing,  in  impassioned  strain,  reproaches  to  a 
comely  woman  robed  in  white  and  seated  on  a  rustic  bench, 
with  her  eyes  raised  to  heaven  with  an  expression  of  pro 
found  melancholy.  The  old  man  was  Zachariah,  a  veteran 
general,  and  the  comely  woman  was  Judith,  or  "  Yee-hu- 
diss, "  as  the  actors  called  her  —  his  only  daughter.  Judith 
was,  it  seemed,  constantly  in  prayer  and  trance,  and  the  woful 
sadness  which  weighed  her  down  had  excited  her  father's 
apprehension.  When  questioned,  Judith's  only  answer  was 


52  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

that  she  must  go  forth  into  the  camp  of  the  besieging 
enemy,  the  haughty  Assyrians,  and  that  her  mission  could 
not  be  explained.  In  a  wild  rhapsody  Judith  then  sang  of 
her  faith  in  Jehovah,  and  her  belief  that  he  would  rid  the 
beleaguered  city  of  its  enemies.  Zachariah  believed  this 
to  be  madness,  and  shook  his  palms  in  the  air,  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  as  in  his  quaint  jargon  he  informed  his 
daughter  that  he  must  bring  her  case  before  the  Sanhedrim. 
Judith  continued  her  rhapsody,  and  her  father  went  away 
wringing  his  hands,  while  the  violins  and  flutes  furnished  a 
wailing  accompaniment  to  his  foreboding  cries. 

The  curtain  fell  upon  Yee-hu-diss  and  her  melancholy, 
to  rise  again  in  a  few  moments  disclosing  the  arrival  of  the 
Assyrian  general-staff  in  a  little  nook  overlooking  the 
besieged  town.  Priests  of  Baal,  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
attired  in  multicolored  garments,  and  with  yellow  flax  for 
hair  and  beards,  brought  in  a  monster  image  of  their  deity, 
and  danced  around  it,  chanting  barbaric  prayers,  until  they 
fell  down  from  exhaustion.  Then  a  tremolo  of  violins, 
accompanied  by  the  grr-grr  of  the  bass-viol,  announced  tho 
entree  of  "  Holofernus,"  as  he  is  called  in  the  jargon. 
On  he  came,  with  his  guard  of  bloodthirsty  spearsmen,  and 
his  generals  in  matted  beards,  rolling  their  eyes  in  ferocious 
fashion. 

"  Holofernus  "  was  a  mighty  figure  of  a  man.  Pie  looked 
like  the  copy  by  a  Hebrew  artist  of  the  form  of  an  Assyrian 
king  on  some  old  sarcophagus.  His  shapely  head  was  orna 
mented  with  a  long  and  rippling  black  beard,  which  came 
to  his  waist.  His  brazen  helmet  was  adorned  with  a  fiery 
plume.  His  scarlet  mantle  was  thrown  back  to  disclose 
a  corselet  supposed  to  be  proof  against  Jewish  javelins. 
His  long  sword,  upon  the  hilt  of  which  one  brown  hand 
rested,  was  richly  ornamented.  His  generals  were  less 
expensively,  but  properly  costumed.  The  black-bearded 


"JUDITH   AND   HOLOFERNUS"  53 

projector  of  the  theatre  had  at  the  outset  invested  a  little 
fortune  in  costumes,  and  many  a  long-established  theatre 
"  up-town  "  could  boast  of  no  better  wardrobe  than  this  in 
fant  Hebrew  histrionic  institution. 

Holof emus  held  a  council  of  war,  and  had  brought  before 
him  the  child  Jochanan,  a  Jewish  captive,  whom  he  threat 
ened  with  all  sorts  of  indignities  because  he  would  not  wor 
ship  Baal.  But  the  child  stood  firm  for  the  true  God ;  and 
his  simple  eloquence,  naively  expressed  in  the  jargon, 
brought  down  thunders  of  applause  from  the  youthful  knee- 
pants  makers  in  the  galleries. 

The  curtain  fell  once  more  ;  and  when  it  arose  again,  the 
audience  saw  before  it  the  "  Sanhedrim,"  with  the  High 
Priest  seated  upon  the  upper  seat,  and  the  attendant  priests 
ranged  on  lower  benches.  This  venerable  assemblage  was 
composed  with  the  greatest  effect,  for  David  had  a  Titian- 
like  eye  for  grouping.  The  holy  tribunal  was  personated 
by  rude  and  ignorant  men,  many  of  whom  worked  at  their 
trades  by  day,  and  added  to  their  slender  incomes  by  figur 
ing  at  the  theatre  in  the  evenings.  But  the  magic  of  artis 
tic  discipline  had  fashioned  them  into  a  better  ensemble 
than  one  often  sees  in  grand  opera,  where  the  supernume 
raries  get  nothing  like  the  training  which  David  bestowed 
upon  his. 

Solemnly,  in  ancient  Hebrew,  the  Sanhedrim  sang  a  hymn, 
all  the  priests  folding  their  hands  and  raising  their  eyes. 
As  the  last  words  were  on  their  lips,  Zachariah  appeared, 
leading  his  trembling  daughter  Judith,  who  was  to  be 
judged  by  the  Sanhedrim.  What  wicked  motive  lay  hid 
den  beneath  her  resolve  to  go  forth  among  the  besieging 
heathen  ?  Judith  in  a  dramatic  recitative  explained  that  she 
was  called  of  God,  and  that  she  would  do  valiant  deeds  for 
Israel.  Then  the  High  Priest  declared  his  faith  that 
Judith  would  not  betray  her  people.  Coining  down 


54  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

from  his  lofty  seat,  he  placed  his  hands  upon  the  hands 
of  Zachariah,  held  above  his  daughter's  head,  and  invoked 
the  divine  blessing.  Then  the  Sanhedrim  dispersed,  inton 
ing  its  chant  in  ancient  Hebrew.  And  the  whole  audience 
remained  silent,  as  if  reverential  in  presence  of  the  heroic 
memory  of  the  woman  of  Bethulia,  of  whom  all  had  heard, 
and  whose  name  was  in  the  calendar  of  national  heroines. 

The  next  act  dealt  with  life  in  the  camp  of  the  besiegers. 
To  the  sound  of  the  merriest  music  Mufti,  the  eunuch,  and 
body-slave  of  Holofernus,  arrived,  marshalling  four  yellow- 
haired  soldiers,  to  whom,  in  his  quality  of  court  jester,  he 
administered  a  sportive  drill,  which  consisted  in  counter 
manding  one  moment  the  order  he  had  given  the  instant 
before,  a  proceeding  eminently  pleasing  to  the  cloth-per 
fumed  youth  in  the  gallery. 

Mufti  was  a  triumph  of  David's  imagination.  There 
was  something  suggestive  of  the  earliest  illustrations  of  the 
Bible  in  his  grotesque  accoutrements,  and  in  the  bulbous 
head,  the  parchment  face  sown  with  comical  wrinkles,  the 
puffy  lips,  from  which  depended  little  braided  fragments 
of  mustache  and  beard.  Only  an  artist  tinctured  with  the 
mediaeval  spirit  could  have  produced  Mufti,  the  bibulous 
slave,  whose  amusing  capers  relieved  the  attention  of  the 
spectators,  when  the  drama  was  getting  too  serious.  And 
Mufti's  laugh !  It  had  a  goblin-like  character,  an  eerie 
quality  which  made  one  shiver  while  he  smiled  at  the  buf 
foon's  antics.  When  Mufti  came  forward  to  the  footlights, 
and,  stepping  out  of  the  historical  play,  sang,  now  in  guttural 
tones,  now  in  highly  pitched  key,  a  "  topical  song  "  which 
discussed  every-day  occurrences  in  East  Broadway  and  in 
Hester  Street,  the  roar  of  applause  was  loud  and  prolonged. 

Suddenly  Mufti  paused  in  his  song;  the  words  seemed 
to  stick  in  his  throat;  his  knees  knocked  together.  He 
heard  Holofernus  calling  him,  and  a  moment  later  that 


"JUDITH   AND  HOLOFERNUS"  55 

valiant  general  made  his  appearance,  slightly  the  worse  in 
equilibrium,  and  the  better  in  valor,  for  numerous  potations 
of  strong  wine.  Holofernus,  surrounded  by  his  concubines, 
dancing-girls,  and  soldiers,  was  in  a  terrible  temper,  and 
was  determined  to  cut  off  a  few  heads  before  relapsing  into 
a  drunken  slumber.  Advancing  to  the  footlights,  he  sang, 
in  a  tremendous  bass  voice  which  seemed  fairly  to  shake 
the  little  old  men  in  the  orchestra  at  his  feet,  a  song,  the 
refrain  of  which  was  "Blood!  Blood  !"  Kolling  his  eyes 
and  tearing  his  beard,  he  rushed  to  and  fro,  brandishing  his 
sword,  and  making  terrific  passes  at  Mufti  and  the  girls. 
And  every  minute  or  two  it  was  Mufti's  dangerous  mission 
to  fetch  him  a  fresh  skin  of  wine,  the  contents  of  which  the 
giant  consumed  with  the  ease  of  a  company  of  politicians 
doing  a  few  "  cold  quarts  "  when  work  is  dull  and  money 
is  easy. 

Who  should  calm  the  furious  savage  ?  Who  could  do  it  — 
who  —  save  the  beautiful  Bethulian  woman  captured  that 
day  just  outside  the  lines  —  the  woman  to  whom  Holofer 
nus  had  taken  such  a  mighty  fancy,  that  all  the  concubines, 
feeling  their  Assyrian  noses  out  of  joint,  were  already  plot 
ting  to  destroy  ?  Who  but  Judith,  the  lovely  creature  who 
seemed  to  humor  all  Holofernus's  fancies,  and  to  respond 
to  his  drunken  advances  ?  The  terrified  camp  followers 
whom  Holofernus  was  on  the  point  of  immolating  implored 
Judith  to  save  them.  She  persuaded  Holofernus  to  lean, 
leering  like  a  wine-maddened  satyr,  on  her  shoulder,  and 
to  be  led  to  a  couch,  where  he  sank  in  a  few  moments  into 
dreamless  slumber.  The  captive  boy  Jochanan  recognized 
Judith,  and,  believing  that  she  had  sold  herself  to  the 
enemy,  spurned  her  from  him  with  contempt,  all  of  which 
Judith  endured  for  the  cause's  sacred  sake. 

Joseph  thought  that  he  recognized  a  familiar  voice  when 
Jochanan  spoke,  and,  looking  more  closely,  he  discovered 


56  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

his  little  friend  Miryain  in  tho  boyish  habiliments  of  the 
captive.  He  marvelled  at  the  training  which  had  in  a  few 
months  transformed  Miryam  from  a  gawky  and  frowsy  girl, 
turning  half  somersaults  on  piles  of  new  clothing  in  the 
sweating  den,  into  this  winsome  actress,  who  was  daintily 
pretty  in  Jochanan's  robe  and  cap.  The  child  felt  that  he 
was  watching  her,  and  a  great  throb  of  joy  stole  through 
her  being,  for  she  looked  upon  Joseph  with  reverence. 

While  Joseph  was  contemplating  Miryam  he  felt  a  curi 
ous  sense  of  being  himself  contemplated,  and,  raising  his 
eyes  suddenly  to  the  upper  box  on  the  other  side  of  the 
theatre,  his  heart  gave  a  sudden  and  unfamiliar  leap  which 
surprised  him,  and  brought  a  faint  color  to  his  pale  cheeks. 
For  there  sat  the  strange  woman,  Bathsheba,  the  handsome 
wife  of  the  dark-faced  fiddler,  and  she  was  gazing  at  him 
as  she  had  looked  when  he  entered  the  "  lodge-room " 
where  he  first  saw  her,  with  a  gaze  that  seemed  to  envelop 
him  and  take  possession  of  his  being.  Instinctively  he 
turned  to  Malcha,  to  see  if  she  had  observed  the  disturbing 
influence.  But  Malcha  as  yet  gave  no  sign  of  a  knowledge 
of  Bathsheba's  existence,  and  Joseph  remembered,  with  a 
slight  feeling  of  guilt,  that  he  had  told  his  wife  nothing 
about  her. 

Bathsheba  was  not  alone.  She  was  escorted  by  an  elderly 
man  with  a  hair-dye  complexion  and  a  fringe  of  whiskers 
which  seemed  a  misfit  for  his  features.  In  this  singular 
being  Joseph  recognized  the  owner  of  several  houses  in 
which  the  victims  of  the  sweaters  were  herded  together 
like  animals  —  a  mean  landlord,  who  treated  his  victims 
with  the  utmost  cruelty  ;  and  his  gorge  rose  at  him.  What 
was  Bathsheba  doing  in  his  company?  Joseph  found  him 
self  strangely  curious  to  know  this. 

He  tried  to  concentrate  his  attention  upon  Miryam  as 
Jochanan,  the  captive  boy,  but  the  eyes  of  Bathsheba 


"JUDITH  AND   HOLOFERNUS"  57 

seemed  imperiously  to  claim  him.  He  looked  up  at  her 
again,  and  in  her  gaze  he  could  see  a  sudden  gleam  of 
triumph,  which  gave  him  a  small  heart-pang. 

Hugging  to  his  breast  little  Zipporah,  who  had  fallen 
asleep,  he  retired  into  the  shadows  in  the  box,  and  from 
his  sheltering  obscurity  watched  the  drama  as  it  slowly 
progressed  to  the  grand  culminating  scene. 

Judith  was  still  in  the  camp,  despised  by  Jochanan, 
hated  by  the  Assyrian  brood,  contemned  and  spat  upon  by 
the  concubines  and  dancing-girls,  who  envied  her  the 
strange  power  which  she  had  obtained  over  their  master. 
Her  aged  father,  who  had  wandered  out  incautiously 
in  search  of  her,  was  brought  in,  bound  with  ropes,  and 
mocked  and  insulted  by  the  pagan  soldiery,  who  called  him 
a  spy,  and  demanded  his  life. 

In  his  extremity  the  old  man  fell  on  his  knees  in  prayer ; 
and  while  busy  with  his  supplications,  the  Assyrians  danced 
round  about  him,  calling  him  rude  names,  and  buffeting 
him  with  the  palms  of  their  hands.  Suddenly  his  eyes 
beheld  his  daughter  —  his  precious  Judith,  and  he  arose 
and  tottered  toward  her,  falling  at  her  feet,  and  calling  her 
his  beloved  daughter. 

But  Judith,  with  harsh  looks  and  angry  gestures,  ordered 
him  away.  She  knew,  him  not,  and  recommended  that  such 
an  impostor  be  bound  with  strong  cords,  and  kept  securely 
until  his  fate  could  be  determined.  Poor  Zachariah  !  He 
could  not  understand  his  daughter's  hidden  motive  in  thus 
denying  him  to  his  face  ;  and  so  he  solemnly  gave  her  a 
father's  curse. 

All  this  was  played  with  a  quaint  earnestness,  a  deliberate 
emphasis,  and  an  unction  not  at  all  modern  in  spirit,  and 
seeming  to  have  been  borrowed  from  the  mystery  plays  of 
the  Middle  Age. 

There  were  naive  touches  of  humor,  of  grotesque  clown- 


58  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

ing  on  the  part  of  the  Assyrians,  which  seemed  to  have 
been  taken  bodily  from  those  rude  plays  which  the  Russian 
serfs  were  wont  to  produce  before  their  masters  at  certain 
festivities.  Tradition,  indeed,  tells  us  that  as  late  as  the 
seventeenth  century  a  Russian  Czar  allowed  a  version 
of  "  Judith  and  Holofernus  "  to  be  represented  before  him 
by  some  newly  arrived  Germans,  and  laughed  so  heartily 
at  some  of  the  jokes  that  the  players  were  emboldened  to 
ask  his  favor.  "  Ask  what  you  wish,  and  you  shall  have 
it ! "  cried  the  delighted  Czar.  "  Well,  then,  Majesty," 
said  the  head  player,  "  we  are  Lutherans,  and  we  would 
like  permission  to  open  a  Lutheran  chapel  in  Moscow." 
The  Czar  frowned,  but  kept  his  word.  "  You  shall  have 
your  chapel,"  he  cried,  "  but  on  condition  that  you  keep  on 
playing  these  plays  to  amuse  me."  And  so  it  came  to  pass 
that  the  pious  Lutherans  were  unmolested  in  the  practice 
of  their  religion  in  Russia,  and  that  they  gave  these 
religious  comedies  on  an  extemporized  stage  behind  the 
altar  rails  of  his  chapel,  for  the  delectation  of  the  Czar. 
Rescued  from  oblivion  by  some  Jew  with  a  taste  for  ferret 
ing  among  the  provincial  archives,  and  carried  into  Rou- 
mania,  where  the  Jews  were  relatively  free,  this  play  of 
"Judith  and  Holofernus"  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
David's  master ;  and  after  many  shrewd  touches  by  David 
himself,  who  possessed  the  same  talent  for  furbishing  up 
an  old  play  that  clever  restorers  shown  in  rejuvenating  an 
ancient  painting,  it  was  brought  forth  before  the  exiles, 
thousands  of  miles  from  their  native  land. 

And  how  heartily  the  exiles  received  the  ensuing  scenes 
of  the  romantic  story !  How  they  roared  over  the  humor 
of  Mufti,  who  suddenly  transformed  himself  into  an  able 
ally  of  Judith ;  who  enabled  her  to  visit  her  father's  prison 
in  secret,  to  receive  his  forgiveness,  and  to  free  him  from 
his  bonds !  How  they  cheered  when  Mufti  found  time  to 


"JUDITH   AND   HOLOFERNUS"  59 

step  out  of  the  past  into  the  present,  and  to  sing  them  a 
topical  song  in  which  there  were  ironical  allusions  to  the 
"  sweaters  "  !  And  how  eagerly,  and  with  what  awestruck 
mien,  they  gazed  at  the  grand  closing  scene  in  the  tent  of 
"  Holofernus." 

The  tyrant  was  prone  on  his  luxurious  couch,  with  his 
head  upon  Judith's  knees.  His  long  hair  and  beard  were 
in  disorder,  and  his  gestures  showed  that  he  was  inflamed 
with  wine.  Judith  lulled  him  to  sleep  with  song.  Then, 
drawing  the  invader's  sword  from  his  belt,  she  burst  into  a 
furious  invective  against  him,  and  smote  him  with  realistic 
downward  sweeping  blow,  while  the  light  of  the  lamp  went 
out,  and  gusts  of  wind  shook  the  draperies  of  the  tent. 

Prom  the  gallery  of  the  cloakmakers  came  sighs  and 
groans  and  sonorous  blowing  of  noses  —  expressions  of 
intense  emotion  in  theatres  the  world  over. 

Another  moment,  and  Judith's  white  face  peered  out 
from  the  curtains,  as  Salvini  peers  after  Desdemona  is  done 
to  death.  Then  forth  she  stole,  with  a  ghastly  head  in 
her  hands,  and  sped  away  through  the  darkness  without 
uttering  a  word.  Here  the  highest  theatrical  effect  was 
reached  by  the  simplest  process,  and  by  unerring  artistic 
intuition. 

Malcha's  cheeks  were  aflame  now.  In  her  obscure  and 
muddy  village  in  Russia  she  had  seen  nothing  like  this. 
The  lights,  the  music,  the  costumes,  all  were  intoxicating 
for  her. 

"  Was  not  Miryara  sweet  as  the  little  boy  ?  "  she  cried  to 
her  husband. 

"Sweet  enough  to  eat,"  answered  Joseph,  awakening 
from  a  kind  of  dream,  which,  to  his  surprise,  was  filled  with 
the  magnetic  presence  of  Bathsheba. 

And  after  the  concluding  scenes,  in  which  dozens  of 
Hebrews  in  flowing  robes  chased  scores  of  armor-clad 


GO  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Assyrians,  and  smote  them  hip  and  thigh,  and  in  which 
Judith  was  seen  enthroned  near  the  High  Priest,  and 
acclaimed  as  the  deliverer  of  her  people ;  when  the  lights 
were  turned  down,  and  the  quavering  music  died  away, 
Joseph  went  out  from  the  theatre  in  a  dread  lest  he  should 
meet  Bathsheba  in  the  passage-way.  Curiously  enough, 
his  heart  rebelled  against  the  woman ;  yet  she  seemed  to 
have  established  a  certain  influence  over  him.  But  he  did 
not  meet  her. 

He  was  so  silent  on  the  way  home,  that  Malcha  feared 
some  new  trouble,  and  questioned  him,  but  in  vain. 

As  they  neared  their  humble  lodgings  in  East  Broadway 
they  heard  a  murmur  of  many  voices,  and  although  it  was 
very  late  they  saw  a  throng  gathered  at  the  house's  steps. 

When  Joseph  was  among  them,  and  they  had  recognized 
him,  the  murmur  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  swelled  into 
a  shout,  then  into  a  series  of  plaints  and  supplications. 

An  old  woman,  bareheaded,  her  thin,  scrawny  arms  bare, 
threw  herself  at  Joseph's  feet,  and  grasped  his  knees. 

"  Help  us  —  now,  to-night  ! "  she  cried.  "  We  are 
starving." 

"  Yes,  now,  to-night,"  came  the  doleful  refrain  from  the 
crowd.  "  We  are  starving ! " 

Joseph  gave  little  Zipporah  to  her  mother,  and  bade  her 
go  in  at  once.  Then  disengaging  the  old  woman's  grasp, 
lie  leaned  against  the  railing  of  the  stone  steps,  and  held 
up  a  hand. 

"  Friends,  neighbors,"  he  said  faintly.  "  Let  me  think  a 
moment ! " 

"  No,  no ! "  cried  the  old  woman,  clutching  his  knees 
again ;  "  don't  think  !  Act !  act !  We  are  starving  !  " 

And  again  the  refrain  came  hoarsely  —  this  time  almost 
menacingly  —  from  the  crowd :  "  We  are  starving  ! " 


THE  NIGHT-MARCH  61 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    NIGHT-MARCH 

MALCHA  hastened  in,  and  placed  little  Zipporah  in  bed. 
Then  she  came  out  again,  and,  locking  the  door,  went  into 
the  passage-way's  entrance,  from  which  she  could  watch 
the  movements  of  Joseph  and  of  the  mob. 

It  was  indeed  a  mob,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  it  was 
hostile  to  her  husband.  An  old  hag  with  blackened  teeth 
and  bleared  eyes  stood  near  her  on  the  steps,  and  from  time 
to  time  stretched  out  her  skinny  arms,  as  if  hurling  a  male 
diction  upon  the  pale  but  impassive  Joseph. 

Although  it  was  now  almost  midnight,  the  quarter  was 
as  animated  as  at  mid-day.  A  splendid  summer  moonlight 
threw  an  enchantment  over  the  scene,  which  by  day  might 
have  seemed  sordid  and  repulsive. 

The  throng  extended  across  the  street,  parting  now  and 
then,  with  menaces  and  clamor,  to  let  the  horse-cars  through. 
It  was  increased  every  moment  by  delegations  from  the 
side  streets.  Men  and  women  and  children  came  scream 
ing,  imploring,  cursing,  and  quarrelling  —  all  moved  by  the 
mainspring  of  hunger  ;  all  concentrated  on  one  aim,  —  on 
Joseph  the  helper,  the  rescuer. 

Pale  toilers,  who  had  not  been  under  the  open  sky  for 
weeks  before,  rushed  forward,  brandishing  their  shears,  and 
crying  for  bread.  Stalwart  men,  who  shuffled  along  as  if 
crushed  by  the  burden  of  work  heaped  upon  them,  came 


62  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

leading  their  children,  and  listening  anxiously  for  Joseph's 
words.  Old  women,  half-nude,  with  thin  gray  hair  stream 
ing  in  disorder,  and  their  withered  cheeks  aflame  with 
anger,  ran  hither  and  yon,  making  wild  gestures  and  utter 
ing  strange  cries.  And  hundreds  of  half-starved  girls,  with 
their  thin  frames  prematurely  bowed  and  broken  by  sixteen 
hours  of  daily  toil,  were  walking  to  and  fro,  also  listening, 
as  if  awaiting  the  word  of  command  to  dart  forth  on  a 
mission  of  vengeance  and  fury  and  spoliation. 

The  victims  of  hunger  were  ripe  for  any  mischief. 

A  word,  and  they  would  light  the  torch  of  the  incendiary. 

A  gesture,  and  they  would  sack  the  shops  of  the  sweaters, 
and  tear  the  contractors  in  pieces. 

A  cry,  and  they  would  fill  the  palaces  of  the  great  city 
with  desolation ! 

Joseph  noted  all  this,  as  his  keen  gaze  wandered  over 
the  throng.  He  also  observed  that,  on  the  outer  edges  of 
the  gathering,  Socialist  emissaries,  the  adroit  representa 
tives  of  the  compact  little  party  which  had  given  him  much 
trouble,  were  freely  scattered  ;  and  that  they  were  actively 
engaged  in  stirring  up  the  people  agaiiiot  him.  The  old 
woman  at  his  knees  was  right.  He  must  act,  not  think. 

He  raised  his  hand  to  enjoin  silence.  As  he  did  so,  a 
carrot  whizzed  past  it,  and  at  the  same  time  one  of  the 
Socialists  darted  back  into  the  crowd.  Joseph  flushed  with 
anger,  but  he  knew  the  folly  of  losing  his  temper  just 
then. 

"Friends,"  he  said  in  his  clear,  resonant  voice,  which 
always  imposed  attention,  "  you  tell  me  that  you  are  starv 
ing  ;  anil  yet  you  can  afford  to  throw  away  food  J  How  is 
this  ?  " 

And  stooping,  he  picked  up  the  offending  carrot,  and  held 
it  high  above  his  head,  and  close  to  the  lamp,  where  all 
could  see  it. 


THE   NIGHT-MARCH  63 

"  Shame  !  Shame  ! "  cried  a  loud  voice,  which  Joseph 
instantly  recognized  as  Ben  Zion's.  "  They  are  throwing 
things  at  Joseph,  at  our  Joseph —  without  whom  the  sweat 
ers  would  have  drunk  our  blood  long  ago  !  Shame  !  " 

A  responsive  roar  from  the  crowd  showed  that  Ben  Zion 
had  struck  the  popular  chord.  "  Yes,  yes,  down  with  the 
Socialists  ! "  cried  hundreds  of  voices.  "  They  can  give  us 
nothing  but  advice ;  Joseph,  our  Joseph,  will  give  us 
bread ! " 

"Let  the  dogs  of  Socialists  throw  anything  else,  and  we 
will  fry  them  in  their  own  grease  ! "  shouted  Ben  Zion. 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  in  their  own  grease  !  "  answered  the  mob. 

Tears  coursed  slowly  down  Joseph's  pale  cheeks,  as  he 
gazed  at  the  rows  of  upturned  faces  in  front  of  him  —  faces 
filled  with  serene  confidence  that  he  could  conjure  the  demon 
of  starvation.  Getting  free  with  no  little  difficulty  from  the 
suppliants  who  hung  about  him,  he  mounted  the  steps  and 
prepared  to  address  the  throng. 

A  hand  touched  him  lightly  on  the  shoulder.  Without 
looking  he  knew  that  it  was  Malcha's  hand. 

His  courage  grew. 

o       o 

"My  dear  friends,"  he  said,  "you  tell  me  that  you  are 
hungry.  So  am  I.  You  are  poor  and  wretched.  So  am  I. 
Each  one  of  you  is  a  victim  of  the  miserable  sweaters.  So 
am  I.  You  have  only  bread  to  eat,  and  not  much  of  that. 
Come  and  look  in  my  cupboard,  and  you  will  find  nothing 
but  bread  there,  and  precious  little  of  that." 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  know,  Joseph,"  cried  the  plaintive  voice 
of  a  woman  ;  "  we  are  not  blaming  you  :  we  know  you  are 
poor.  But  something  must  be  done  about  the  lock-out,  or 
we  shall  all  perish  like  cats  in  a  deserted  town.  And  you 
are  the  one  to  do  it." 

"  That's  right ;  stir  him  to  action  !  "  cried  a  mellow  voice 
which  sent  the  blood  leaping  through  Joseph's  veins,  and 


64  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

made  him  clench  his  teeth.  "Joseph  is  too  soft:  he 
needs  stirring  up  ;  then  he  will  be  a  great  leader.  Tell  him 
the  truth!  Force  against  force!  That  is  the  only  doc 
trine!" 

It  was  the  voice  of  Baumeister. 

"  It  would  he  an  imbecile  doctrine  for  us  !  "  cried  Jo 
seph.  "And  only  an  imbecile  can  utter  such  sentiments 
now  and  here." 

A  mocking  laugh,  which  had  a  Mephistophelian  ring  to 
it,  came  back  from  the  crowd.  Baumeister  had  played  his 
card,  and  he  hastened  to  get  out  of  the  throng  and  into  a 
comfortable  shadow. 

"  Yes,  Joseph,  you  are  too  soft,  too  yielding  ! "  cried  the 
old  hag  who  had  fallen  at  his  knees.  "  If  you  would  lead 
this  company  in  front  of  Freier  and  Monach's  place  to-mor 
row  morning,  the  damnable  sweaters  would  sing  a  different 
song  about  their  lock-out.  Why  did  they  take  our  work 
away  from  us  ?  To  make  us  more  humble  afterwards  ? 
God  !  were  we  not  slaves  already  ?  Must  we  crawl  ?  I 
say,  demand  that  they  give  our  men  their  work  back  again, 
and  threaten  to  knock  them  on  the  head  if  they  don't ! " 

"  That's  right,  Mother  Petwosky  !  You  Poles  understand 
how  to  make  the  dogs  yield.  '  Joseph  is  too  soft ! '  "  shouted 
half  a  dozen  voices. 

"  We  formed  the  Union  to  get  our  rights,  but  not  to  fight 
manufacturers  !  "  said  Joseph  in  a  firm  voice.  "  It  is  you 
who  are  too  soft !  You  are  soft-headed  to  talk  such  non 
sense  ! " 

A  little  ripple  of  laughter  came  and  went ;  then  the 
angry  roar  rose  again. 

"  Bah  !  what  do  they  care  for  the  Union  ?  "  cried  the  old 
hag,  wagging  her  grizzled  head,  and  waving  her  skinny 
arms.  "  Much  they  are  afraid  of  your  Union  !  Come  and 
see  for  yourself,  Joseph,  how  much  the  landlords  and  con- 


THE  NIGHT-MARCH  t 

tractors  are  afraid  of  you !  Come  and  take  a  look  at 
Mother  Levitsky — the  woman  whom  you  tried  to  help  ! 
Poor  soul !  you  made  her  landlord  promise  that  he  would 
not  turn  her  out  until  you  could  raise  the  money  to  pay  her 
rent,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Joseph,  feeling  a  sudden  wave  of  anger 
mounting  to  his  brain,  "and  did  he  dare  ?  " 

"  Did  he  dare  ?  Oh,  no  !  Very  good  !  Did  he  dare  ? 
Did  he  dread  your  mighty  Union?  Come  and  see!  You 
will  find  that  he  has  put  Mother  Levitsky  and  all  her  brood 
out  into  the  street !  That's  what  you  will  find  ! "  And  the 
beldame,  raising  her  voice  to  a  shriek,  executed  a  kind  of 
furious  war-dance,  snapping  her  fingers  and  brandishing 
her  arms;  and  finally  screaming,  "  Yes,  Joseph!  you  are 
too  soft ! "  she  fell  down  exhausted,  and  was  dragged  away 
by  two  compassionate  girls. 

Joseph  could  not  stem  the  wave  of  anger.  It  was  resist 
less  now.  It  seemed  to  fill  his  eyes  with  blood.  For  a 
minute  or  two  he  saw  everything  red.  At  last  he  managed 
to  stammer,  — 

"  Is  this  true  ?  " 

"  Ha,  ha !  "  said  a  dozen  shrill  voices,  "  he  asks  if  it  is 
true  !  Let  him  come  with  us,  and  see  the  old  woman  most 
likely  lying  in  the  dirt  of  the  street.  Much  they  care  for 
his  Union  !  Ho,  ho  ! " 

Joseph  turned  suddenly  to  Malcha,  and  urged  her  to  go 
to  the  child.  "  Do  not  fear  for  me  !  "  he  said ;  "  these  peo 
ple  will  do  as  I  say.  I  shall  come  back  presently."  Then 
he  stepped  briskly  down  to  the  head  of  the  throng. 

"  Come  on  !  "  he  said,  "  let  us  get  at  the  rights  of  this  ! " 
And  the  hungry  leader,  with  fifteen  hundred  hungry  and 
enraged  men  and  women  behind  him,  set  out  for  Ludlow 
Street,  where  the  rumored  eviction  of  Mother  Levitsky, 
for  whom  Joseph  had  so  recently  interceded  with  her  land 
lord,  was  to  be  proved  true  or  false. 


66  JOSEPH    ZALMOXAH 

Now  that  the  throng  had  Joseph  at  its  head,  it  became 
silent.  Its  movements  were  no  longer  disorderly,  but  in 
concert,  as  in  obedience  to  one  will.  The  Socialists  fol 
lowed  at  a  distance.  They  knew  that  Joseph's  sharp  eyes 
would  detect  them,  and  order  them  out  of  his  ranks. 

Baumeister,  in  his  cosily  shadowed  corner,  chuckled  ::s 
lie  saw  the  departure  of  the  angry  and  resolute  company. 

At  the  angle  of  every  street  h'fty  or  a  hundred  pale, 
gaunt  men  and  women  joined  the  procession.  When  they 
arrived  in  front  of  the  tenement  house  in  Ludlow  Street 
where  Mother  Levitsky  had  made  her  home,  there  were 
at  least  twenty-five  hundred  men  and  women  —  starving 
cloakmakers  and  their  wives  and  sons  and  daughters  —  in 
this  company. 

They  went  quick/y.  Hunger  and  anger  are  swift  movers 
of  human  feet. 

At  last  they  stood  before  the  double  tenement  house 
where  the  dilapidated  Lares  and  Penates  of  the  Levitskys 
had  been  set  up.  The  landlord  —  himself  a  Russian  Jew, 
and  a  dealer  in  strong  waters  and  cheap  politics,  as  well 
as  patron  of  one  or  two  of  the  worst  sweating-shops  in 
the  quarter  —  lived  on  the  premises. 

Many  windows  were  still  alight,  and  in  the  upper  stories 
the  click-clack  of  sewing-machines  was  heard.  From  the 
narrow  and  darkened  hallway  came  the  nauseous  odor  of 
stale  fish  and  fried  onions  and  cabbage.  Two  little  chil 
dren  were  asleep  on  the  doorstep,  one  mite  leaning  its 
curly  head  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  other.  A  slight  push 
would  have  sent  the  diminutive  twain  into  the  gutter. 

••  \Vliere  is  the  old  fox  ?  "  said  Joseph  in  a  voice  vibrat 
ing  with  passion.  "Let  us  know  why  he  does  not  keep 
his  promises  to  me!" 

"Yes,  let  us  know,  and  let  us  knock  him  on  the  head  !" 
said  hoarse  voices  in  the  crowd. 


THE   NIGHT-MARCH  67 

"Silence  there!"  commanded  Joseph.  "No  threats. 
We  are  going  to  try  a  case,  not  to  execute  anybody.  Let 
me  hear  no  more  talk  about  violence.'-' 

"  You  hear  what  Joseph  says,  you  ferocious  demons  !  " 
said  the  mellow  voice  of  Ben  Zion.  The  pedler  had  crept 
to  the  front,  and  now  fancied  himself  one  of  Joseph's 
lieutenants. 

"Let  a  dozen  of  you  come  with  me  up  to  the  third  floor, 
where  the  Levitskys  lived,"  said  Joseph.  "  If  they  are  not 
there  we  shall  then  know  what  to  do." 

Ben  Zion,  whose  newly  acquired  authority  none  seemed 
to  dispute,  selected  six  men  and  six  women,  and  they  fol 
lowed  Joseph  into  the  hallway,  carefully  stepping  over  the 
sleeping  children. 

The  stairs  were  of  the  rudest  description  ;  they  were  un- 
lighted,  save  by  one  wan  gas-jet,  shedding  a  mournful 
flicker  upon  the  cheap  ungarnished  walls,  which  exhaled 
unhealthy  odors. 

The  noise  made  by  the  hundreds  of  shuffling  feet  out 
side,  and  the  clamor  of  tongues,  had  awakened  the  land 
lord,  who  was  badly  frightened,  but  who  had  summoned 
all  his  cunning  for  an  event  which  he  knew  must  be  disa 
greeable. 

His  flat  was  on  the  second  floor  in  front,  and  he  stum 
bled  out  of  his  door  into  the  passage  just  as  Joseph  and 
his  escort  appeared  on  the  landing.  The  landlord  was  but 
half  dressed,  but  he  carried  a  thick  stick  in  his  right  hand. 
He  was  a  small  man,  of  powerful  build,  with  a  capacious 
head,  well  set  on  stalwart  shoulders.  He  would  have 
shown  fight  to  ten  or  twenty  of  the  underfed  and  over 
worked  cloakmakers,  but  he  knew  how  dangerous  it  was  to 
trifle  with  a  mob. 

"Be  careful,  Simon,"  whispered  his  wife  over  his  shoul 
der  ;  "  there  are  hundreds  of  them  in  the  street,  and  they 
mean  mischief." 


68  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want  at  this  time  of  the 
night  ?  "  said  the  landlord,  as  Joseph  stepped  forward  and 
faced  him  under  the  gas-jet. 

"  Simon,"  said  Joseph,  "  what  have  you  done  with 
Mother  Levitsky  ?  I  hear  strange  stories  about  you  — 
that  you  have  broken  your  promise  to  me.  Say  that  it 
is  not  true,  and  I  will  believe  you  and  go  home  at  once, 
and  take  all  these  good  people  with  me." 

Simon  retreated  a  step  or  two,  and  gripped  his  stick 
hard.  "What  business  is  it  of  yours?"  he  said  with  a 
sneer.  "  A  pretty  fool  I  was  to  listen  to  you  —  one  beggar 
giving  a  guaranty  for  another  beggar."  He  retreated 
another  pace  or  two.  "Go  and  find  out  for  yourself  what 
has  become  of -the  old  woman.  And  no  more  meddling 
with  my  affairs,  do  you  understand  ?  I  have  a  telephone. 
In  ten  minutes  I  can  have  a  dozen  policemen  here.  Then 
you  would  all  run  for  your  lives.  You,  Joseph,  would  get 
into  prison  perhaps.  Now  go  home,  or  I  will  use  the 
telephone." 

He  was  backing  into  the  door  when  the  strong  arm  of 
Ben  Zion  caught  him  and  hauled  him  forth  as  if  he  had 
been  a  man  of  straw. 

"In,  ten  minutes,  hey  ?"  said  Ben  Zion,  grimly  contem 
plating  the  trembling  Simon.  "Yes,  and  in  ten  minutes, 
if  I  were  to  throw  you  into  the  crowd  down  there,  where 
would  you  be  ?  " 

"  You  would  not  dare  to  murder  me !  "  said  Simon,  whose 
teeth  chattered.  "  You  would  be  hanged." 

"Nonsense  !  what  is  one  sweater  more  or  less  ?  'When 
a  horse  falls  down,  they  take  another  in  his  place.' " 

This  cruel  application  to  Simon's  case  of  the  brutal  say 
ing  of  the  sweaters,  when  an  exhausted  workman  begged  for 
mercy,  used  the  landlord's  courage  up.  He  became  limp 
and  pale.  "What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?"  he  stammered. 


THE  NIGHT-MARCH  69 

"Must  I  lose  all  my  money  because  old  women  and  girls 
come  here  to  live  without  paying  rent  ?  " 

Ben  Zion  took  a  fresh  hold  of  Simon,  and  drew  him  after 
him  up  the  staircase  to  the  third  floor.  "  You  have  as  good 
as  confessed,"  he  said,  "that  you  have  thrown  the  old 
woman  out  to  die  !  Come  with  us ;  and  woe  to  you  if  you 
have  done  wrong ! " 

Joseph  had  already  sprung  up  the  stairs,  and  knocked  at 
the  door  of  the  Levitsky  flat.  He  heard  the  whir  of  a 
sewing-machine  in  an  inner  room,  although  it  was  now 
nearly  one  o'clock.  There  was  delay  in  opening ;  and  for 
several  minutes  nothing  was  heard  but  the  feverish  breath 
ing  of  the  little  company,  and  the  whine  of  Simon  as  Ben 
Zion  shook  him. 

Presently  the  door  was  opened  by  a  pale,  fluffy -faced  man 
with  a  black  beard,  and  the  company  rushed  in  without 
apology.  A  gawky  girl  of  ten,  much  frightened,  came  for 
ward  with  a  kerosene  lamp. 

Joseph  gazed  about  him  in  astonishment.  Every  vestige 
of  occupation  by  the  Levitskys  had  vanished.  These  were 
new  lodgers  ;  this  was  different  furniture,  if  two  old  boxes, 
one  broken  chair,  and  some  very  unsavory-looking  mat 
tresses  could  be  called  furniture. 

He  strode  into  the  inner  room.  It  was  faintly  lighted. 
Three  pallid  girls  were  sewing  with  sleepy  gestures,  near 
an  old  stove  not  yet  set  up.  A  pile  of  finished  knee-pants, 
and  of  cloth  for  making  others,  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
apartment.  A  sickening  odor,  as  from  a  hospital  ward, 
arose,  and  seemed  to  flee  in  affright  before  the  fresh  air 
which  had  entered  when  the  door  was  opened. 

On  the  pile  of  cloth  lay  a  girl  six  or  seven  years  old, 
breathing  heavily.  Her  face  was  flushed.  As  Joseph  ap 
proached  her  an  old  woman  stepped  in  front  of  him,  as  if  to 
hide  the  child. 


70  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

Joseph  pushed  the  woman  aside,  and  took  a  keen  look  at 
the  girl.  Then  he  drew  back  in  fright.  "  That  child  has 
either  scarlet-fever  or  small-pox,"  he  said.  "  Can't  you 
see  it  for  yourselves  ?  Get  her  out  of  here  at  once,  or  the 
Health  Board  will  be  here  in  the  morning." 

He  rubbed  his  eyes.  The  Levitskys,  infirm  old  mother 
and  two  grandchildren,  weak  and  unable  to  support  them 
selves,  had  been  banished,  and  in  their  place  a  typical 
"sweater's  shop"  had  been  established.  And  here,  en 
throned  on  the  piles  of  cloth  to  be  made  into  garments, 
which  would  soon  be  scattered  through  the  country,  was 
the  foul  contagion  which  might  be  the  means  of  slaying 
scores  of  innocent  people. 

Joseph  shuddered.  The  woman,  reassured  by  the  sound  of 
her  native  jargon,  and  thinking  him  some  kind  of  inspector, 
caught  up  the  child,  hid  its  face  with  her  apron,  and  re 
treated  to  a  dark  corner. 

"  Mother  Levitsky  has  been  put  out,  with  her  grandchil 
dren,  and  Simon  has  got  another  sweat-shop  established 
here,  with  greenhorns  to  work  for  him  for  nothing  and 
board  themselves,"  cried  Ben  Zion. 

At  this  juncture  Simon  with  a  desperate  effort  wrenched 
himself  free,  and  sprang  out  of  the  room  and  down  the 
stairs.  "He  is  going  to  call  the  police,"  said  one.  "He 
dares  not,"  said  Joseph. 

The  new  tenants  knew  nothing  of  Mother  Levitsky. 
Never  had  heard  of  her.  They  had  come  to  the  house  that 
day  ;  had  been  in  the  country  but  ten  days.  With  a  fresh 
warning  about  the  child,  Joseph  and  his  band  withdrew. 

On  the  stairs  a  feeble  hand  plucked  at  Joseph's  coat.  He 
looked  down,  and  in  the  dimness  discerned  the  hunger- 
pinched  face  of  one  of  the  Levitsky  grandchildren  — a  thin 
slip  of  a  girl. 

"I  did  not  dare  to  come  sooner,"  she  whispered.     "But 


THE   NIGHT-MARCH  71 

Simon  has  gone  in  now,  and  shut  his  door.  Grandmother 
lies  out  in  the  yard  at  the  back  of  the  houses  and  "  —  here 
the  little  voice  quivered  —  "  you  must  come  quick,  for 
she's  been  taken  very  bad." 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  are  coming !  Run  ahead  and  show  us  the 
way ! "  cried  Joseph,  feeling  ashamed  that  he  had  not 
believed  the  cloakmakers  at  once.  They  had  shrewdly 
allowed  him  to  make  the  search,  hoping  that  it  would 
arouse  him  to  rage.  "  It  is  true,  then  ! "  he  said  to  Ben 
Zion ;  "  the  dog  has  thrown  her  into  the  street." 

"  Then  let  us  do  the  same  to  him  ! "  said  Ben  Zion  ;  but 
Joseph  held  him  back,  and  they  all  went  silently  down  to 
the  ground-floor,  and  through  the  narrow  passage  to  the 
little  courtyard  at  the  back,  overlooked  by  a  forbidding 
rear  tenement,  filled  with  sweaters'  dens.  Here,  with  110 
light  but  that  of  the  moon  to  shine  on  the  thin  and 
wretched  pallet  which  could  not  keep  her  wasted  form 
from  the  dampness  of  the  foul  yard,  lay  Mother  Levitsky 
• —  dying.  At  -the  head  of  the  miserable  couch  were  piled 
the  few  articles  left  this  starving  family,  — a  forlorn  bureau 
with  but  one  sound  leg,  a  broken  chair,  and  a  shabby  trunk 
filled  with  rags. 

"Bring  lights! "  cried  Joseph,  "  lights  here  on  Simon's 
work  !  See  how  Simon  the  sweater  treats  his  victims  ! " 

The  throng  began  to  surge  in.  Lights  were  produced, 
and  Joseph,  bending  tenderly  over  the  dying  woman,  tried 
to  comfort  her.  "  You  shall  be  moved  at  once,  to  my  own 
house  ! "  he  said.  Then  he  thought  of  his  own  terrible 
situation,  —  nearly  penniless,  without  proper  food,  and  with 
two  or  three  thousand  people  clamoring  at  his  back.  It 
almost  crushed  him. 

"  Armes  kind!  "  sighed  the  poor  creature  ;  "you  cannot 
help  me.  I  am  gone ;  but  do  something  for  the  girls,  if 
you  can  ! " 


72  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

The  last  words  were  exhaled  like  a  long  sigh.  Joseph 
was  holding  the  woman's  head  on  his  arm.  Suddenly  he 
uttered  a  cry  and  drew  back. 

Mother  Levitsky  was  dead.  She  was  already  in  her  last 
agony  when  the  small  grandchild  had  sought  for  Joseph, 
and  he  had  arrived  only  in  time  to  receive  her  final  sigh. 

>4  It  was  the  shock  that  killed  her,"  said  one  of  the  wail 
ing  girls.  "This  morning,  when  he  put  us  out,  he  would 
not  wait  for  you  to  help  us,  Joseph.  He  said  that  we  were 
beggars  —  and  that  you  were  a  beggar  too." 

And  then  arose  through  the  night  the  weird  Jewish  vail 
for  the  dead,  while  pious  hands  covered  the  dead  woman's 
face. 

" Here ! "  cried  Joseph  in  a  furious  voice.  "Bring  Simon 
here !  Burning  would  be  too  good  for  such  a  wretch,  but 
we  must  use  no  violence  ! " 

There  was  a  crash  as  the  landlord's  door  was  burst  open  ; 
and  in  a  minute  or  two  Simon,  still  only  half  dressed,  and 
followed  by  his  screaming  wife,  was  dragged  down  to  the 
courtyard,  and  placed  before  his  victim.  Ben  Zion  stood 
guard  over  him  with  his  own  stick,  which  he  had  wrested 
from  him. 

"  Simon,  this  is  your  work  ! "  said  Joseph  solemnly. 
"  The  woman  is  dead.  You  killed  her.  Now  listen  to  me. 
No  bodily  harm  shall  be  done  you."  Here  a  roar  of  dissent 
from  the  mob  made  Simon  wince.  "  But  look  me  in  the 
face,  and  listen.  Here  am  I,  a  starving  man,  with  two 
thousand  starving  people  at  my  back.  We  have  formed  a 
Union  to  combat  such  creatures  as  you,  and  we  will  fight 
yon  to  the  death  !  We  swear  eternal  enmity  to  you,  and 
all  such  as  you  ! " 

And  from  the  throng  in  the  courtyard,  the  passage,  and 
the  street  outside,  came  the  echo,  hoarse  and  terrible, 
"  Eternal  enmity  to  you,  and  all  such  as  you  ! " 


THE   NIGHT-MARCH  73 

"I  can't  help  it,"  said  Simon  sullenly.  "What  have  I 
to  lo  with  your  bread  and  meat  ?  Am  I  to  blame  because 
tliis  old  soul  couldn't  pay  her  rent  ?  Must  I  keep  hos 
pital  ?  " 

"  Liar ! "  said  Joseph.  "  You  steal  the  bread  out  of  the 
mouths  of  old  and  young  alike.  Now  go  !  Ben  Ziou,  see 
him  safely  to  his  door  ! " 

The  people  shrank  away  from  him  as  he  passed,  white 
and  shaking.  Joseph's  solemn  manner  awed  them  all. 

"  Take  up  the  body  !  "  said  Joseph,  "  and  let  us  bear  it 
away  with  us !  We  will  find  a  decent  asylum  for  it,  and 
for  these  poor  waifs." 

The  body  was  borne  tenderly  into  the  street,  and  the 
bearers  took  their  position  at  the  head  of  the  column. 

"  And  now  !  "  said  Joseph,  "  here  is  my  plan.  In  the 
treasury  of  your  Union  there  is  still  forty  dollars.  You 
may  come  with  me  there  at  once,  take  that  money,  and  buy 
bread  for  all.  With  bread  we  can  live,  and  we  will  begin 
the  active  fight  against  the  sweaters,  and  fight  them  to 
the  death ! " 

"  To  the  death  ! "  responded  the  crowd  hoarsely. 

Joseph  omitted  to  tell  them  that  these  forty  dollars 
were  his  own,  the  salary  which  he  had  declined  to  draw  as 
officer  of  the  Union,  when  its  poor  treasury  was  so  nearly 
impoverished.  His  heart  was  light  at  the  thought  of  the 
temporary  relief  which  he  could  offer. 

The  throng  took  up  its  march  again,  with  the  dead  woman 
borne  at  its  head. 

A  faint  light  in  Simon's  window  indicated  that  he  was 
watching  them. 


71  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  PANORAMA  OP  SUFFERING 

No  officer  crossed  the  path  of  the  angry  cloakmakers 
that  night.  The  soft  May  moonlight  shed  a  mysterious 
splendor  over  the  hungry  throng,  as  it  went  silently,  with 
Joseph  and  the  bearers  of  the  dead  woman  at  its  head, 
through  highways  and  byways,  now  disappearing  in  the 
shadows  cast  from  the  old-fashioned  brick  houses  with 
their  Doric  columns  and  ornamental  entrances,  now  show 
ing,  a  black  and  winding  ribbon,  against  the  silver  of  the 
moon's  rays. 

Joseph  hardly  knew  whether  he  were  really  leading  this 
throng  of  melancholy  refugees  to  the  office  of  the  Union, 
to  give  them  the  promised  money,  or  marshalling  them 
to  a  grand  attack  upon  their  enemies  the  sweaters.  His 
veins  seemed  filled  with  fire;  his  hands  were  clinched;  all 
the  world  about  him  swam  in  a  red  mist. 

Had  a  luckless  contractor,  manufacturer,  or  landlord  of 
the  type  of  Simon,  appeared  in  the  path  at  that  time, 
Joseph  would  no  longer  have  tried  to  keep  his  followers 
from  violence. 

As  lie  trudged  along  he  felt  a  hand  on  his  arm.  The 
old  woman  who  had  tried,  earlier  in  the  night,  to  excite 
him  to  violence,  was  beside  him. 

"Let  me  take  her  home,"  she  said  in  a  weird  whisper. 
"  I  live  near  by.  I  will  give  her  all  the  shelter  she  wants 


THE   PANORAMA   OF   SUFFERING  TO 

—  until  the  last  one.  We  will  see  to  the  burial.  My  man 
don't  object.  And  he  will  go  and  pick  up  the  grand 
children's  things  to-morrow.  We  have  the  little  ones  with 
us  now." 

Joseph  rubbed  his  eyes.  "  True,"  he  said  ;  "  I  had  for 
gotten  the  small  folk.  And  neither  you  nor  they  have  a 
cent,  I  suppose.  Well,  we  will  send  you  some  money  from 
the  Union.  And  as  for  this  poor  woman,"  he  said,  point 
ing  to  the  rude  bier,  "  do  as  you  think  best." 

The  old  hag  stooped  and  kissed  his  hand. 

Presently  they  came  to  the  tenement  in  which  she  lived. 
The  whole  rattle-trap,  from  top  to  bottom,  was  tenanted  by 
Russian-Jewish  cloakmakers,  so  there  was  none  to  object 
to  the  repose  of  Mother  Levitsky  under  the  roof,  on  the 
way  to  her  final  resting-place. 

The  procession  halted  ;  the  body  was  carried  in ;  and 
then  the  great  company  set  off  at  a  quicker  pace  for  the 
Union,  where  they  were  to  receive  the  money  which  meant 
bread  —  bread,  and  momentary  relief  from  the  gnawing 
torture  of  hunger. 

"  Suppose  that  he  should  be  deceiving  us,  and  that  he 
has  no  money?"  suggested  one.  "Joseph  always  was  such 
a  dreamer ! " 

"  There's  a  bakery  over  there,"  sighed  another.  "  See  ! 
the  beast  is  just  taking  down  his  shutters  !  Yutt !  how  fat 
and  comfortable  he  looks !  Suppose  we  took  his  whole 
stock  ?  He  would  not  dare,  to  say  anything.  And  we  could 
pay  him  afterwards  —  if  Joseph  really  has  any  "  — 

"  Yes,  that  would  be  better  than  waiting,"  snarled  an  old 
man  in  a  greasy  hat,  with  corkscrew  curls  dangling  in 
front  of  his  ears.  "  Come  on  ;  let's  rush  the  baker !  I've 
seen  it  done  in  Poland.  And  there  was  only  a  few  of  us 
who  got  three  months.  I  don't  mind  leading  !  " 

There  was  a  shout  and  a  rush,  from  which  the  more  in- 


76  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

telligeiit  men  and  women  held  back.  But  suddenly  the 
would-be  rioters  found  themselves  confronted  by  Ben  Zion 
and  Joseph. 

The  former  was  armed  with  the  stick  which  he  had 
wrested  from  Simon,  and  he  laid  it  over  the  heads  of  the 
mob  without  mercy.  This  energetic  action,  seconded  by 
Joseph's  entreaties,  brought  the  sacking  expedition  to  an 
ignoble  close,  and  Joseph  succeeded  in  getting  the  whole 
company  to  the  door  of  the  Union's  office  without  any 
breach  of  the  law. 

The  Union's  headquarters  was  a  small  basement  in  Cherry 
Street,  equipped  with  a  desk,  an  ancient  safe,  and  a  few 
broken  stools. 

Dawn  was  just  flushing  the  east  with  daintiest  pink  as 
Joseph  unlocked  the  door  and  let  the  leaders  in.  The 
women  seated  themselves  on  the  steps  and  sidewalks,  and 
the  half-grown  boys  pressed  in  and  began  to  jump  and 
gambol  about  the  broken  stools. 

Here  two  policemen  were  drowsily  killing  time,  and  they 
strolled  up,  swinging  their  clubs,  and  listening  to  the  babble 
of  the  women.  "  What's  going  on  here  ?  "  said  one. 

The  women  clamored  for  Joseph,  and  he  came  out, 
bareheaded,  with  his  hands  full  of  small  money.  "  What 
is  that  you  want  ?  "  he  asked,  turning  his  plaintive  gaze  on 
the  officers. 

"Nothing.  Thought  it  was  a  fire,"  said  one,  eying 
Joseph  curiously. 

"  It's  worse  than  that,"  said  Joseph,  in  his  best  English. 
"  These  people  are  starving.  Their  employers  lock  them 
out  because  they  will  not  accept  the  very  meanest  wages 
and  the  very  longest  hours.  So  they  are  starving,  and  I 
am  giving  them  what  is  left  of  the  funds  of  their  Union  — 
to  keep  up  the  fight  a  little  longer.  When  that  is  gone  "  — 
His  voice  faltered.  He  was  not  speaking  to  the  policemen. 
He  was  communincr  with  himself. 


THE    PANORAMA   OF    SUFFERING  77 

And  still  the  red  mist  swam  before  his  eyes. 

"  Well,  it's  pretty  hard  anny  way,"  said  the  policeman. 
"  Get  your  money  and  go  home,  and  don't  be  blockin'  up 
the  way,  you  people.  And  maybe,"  he  added,  turning  to 
Joseph,  "  if  ye'd  get  a  note  in  the  papers,  ye  might  get 
some  kind  people  to  help  ye  for  a  while." 

"Help!"  repeated  Joseph  despairingly,  "who  would 
help  three  thousand  people  —  like  us  ?  How  can  we 
ask  ?  " 

"  Well,  maybe  there's  manny  a  one  would  help  ye  now. 
How  do  ye  know  till  ye  thry  ?  Sure,  the  rich  people  never 
know  you're  alive  unless  ye  make  yourselves  heard.  If 
they  was  fifty  thousand  av  ye  here,  now,  instead  of  two  or 
three  thousand,  how  much  would  they  know  about  it  in 
Fifth  Avenyer  ?  I'm  thinkin'  that  if  ye'd  ask  help  for 
your  Union,  ye  might  get  it." 

"  I  will  try,"  said  Joseph  simply.  He  caught  at  this 
faint  hope  as  the  drowning  man  grasps  at  the  straw,  or  the 
bubbles  made  by  his  own  sti-uggles. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  throng  had  vanished,  after  re 
newing  its  oath  to  fight  the  sweaters  to  the  death.  Money 
enough  had  been  distributed  to  buy  sixteen  or  seventeen 
hundred  loaves  of  the  poor  bread  which  is  sold  so  cheaply 
in  the  cloakmakers'  district. 

Ben  Zion  and  the  officers  of  the  Union  had  departed, 
leaving  Joseph  seated  before  the  old  desk,  with  the  sun 
shine  stealing  through  a  hole  in  the  ragged  curtain  to  light 
up  his  pale,  tired  face. 

It  was  only  after  much  entreaty  that  they  had  prevailed 
upon  him  to  keep  two  dollars  of  the  money  (his  own)  for 
pressing  personal  needs.  If  they  had  not  insisted,  he 
would  have  gone  home  to  Malcha  without  a  penny  in  his 
pocket. 

When  Joseph  was  quite  alone,  he  fell  to  reviewing  his 


78  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

recent  past,  and  it  arose  before  him  in  a  series  of  dramatic 
tableaux,  as  if  he  had  been  witnessing  it  on  the  stage  of  a 
theatre.  He  saw  himself  crossing  the  bridge  between 
Germany  and  Russia,  on  that  cold,  dark  night  in  1887, 
when  he  had  turned  his  back  forever  upon  the  petty  and 
provoking  tyranny  of  Russian  officialism. 

In  the  distance  a  sonorous  bell  was  striking  the  midnight 
hour.  The  sentry,  whom  Joseph  had  bribed,  stared  straight 
at  him  when  he  passed,  but  made  no  effort  to  stop  him. 
He  hurried  on  over  the  bridge,  stumbling  against  a 
loosened  plank,  holding  his  breath  and  looking  back  in 
fear,  while  his  heart-beats  sounded  like  trip-hammer  blows 
in  his  frightened  ears. 

No  one  came  ;  he  was  free  —  free  from  the  hell  of  the 
"  Pale  ! "  And  he  took  off  his  fur  cap  and  waved  it  above 
his  head,  and  shouted  as  he  ran  swiftly  toward  Germany. 
Once  well  out  of  gun-shot  of  Russia  he  shook  his  fist  at 
the  Czar  and  all  his  people,  and  went  forward,  dreaming  of 
the  America  of  which  he  had  read  in  the  works  of  Zim 
merman  —  the  land  of  no  passports,  no  police  spies,  no 
dungeons  for  political  offences ;  a  land  where  liberty  and 
work  for  all  was  to  be  found. 

How  many  incoherent  ideas  went  spinning  through  his 
head  in  that  midnight  hour  !  He  would  achieve  fame  and 
fortune  in  America  !  He  had  a  good  voice  ;  he  could  write 
for  Hebrew  papers ;  he  could  teach  ;  and  soon  good  little 
Malcha,  who  had  connived  at  his  flight,  could  rejoin  him. 

And  why  had  he  fled  ?  Then  arose  before  him  the 
mental  picture  of  the  friend  coming  to  warn  him  that  he 
had  been  "badly  noted"  by  the  authorities  for  reading 
Karl  Marx's  «  Kapital." 

P>adly  noted  !  that  meant  that  unless  he  were  circum 
spect  in  the  highest  degree  in  word  and  deed,  lie  would 
one  day  be  seized  and  sent  hundreds  of  miles  away  from 


THE  PANORAMA  OF  SUFFERING         79 

home,  and  thrown  into  prison  at  the  caprice  of  some  quar 
relsome  official. 

It  meant  that  he  must  become  the  slave  of  the  police  spy 
if  he  remained  at  home ;  that  his  liberty  would  depend  on 
the  bribes  which  he  was  able  to  pay. 

Xo,  he  would  go  away  ;  he  would  drift  with  the  current 
of  exiles  crowding  all  the  channels  of  exit  from  the  "Pale." 
But  if  he  disclosed  his  projects  of  departure  to  any  save 
his  wife  he  might  be  detained.  And  then  came  before  him 
the  picture  of  his  departure  from  his  father's  door,  the 
lingering  looks  which  he  cast  behind  him,  and  the  dark 
ness  which  seemed  to  settle  over  the  winter  landscape 
when  his  old  home  was  left  behind. 

Now  the  scene  changed  to  America,  whither  he  had 
come  by  Hamburg  and  Liverpool.  He  saw  himself  wan 
dering  in  Brooklyn  in  search  of  work,  and  finally  toiling 
day  after  day  at  unloading  sugar  from  steamships,  under 
the  lee  of  a  vast  refinery .  He  saw  the  boss  of  the  gang 
one  morning  approaching  him,  and  saying,  with  a  thinly 
disguised  sneer,  "You  ain't  a  laboring  man.  You  can't 
stand  dis  work.  Say,  why  don't  you  go  and  write  for  de 
papers  ?  "  Joseph  dimly  understood,  and  left. 

Then  followed  fleeting  pictures  of  days  and  nights  of 
misery,  on  which  Joseph  little  cared  to  look.  His  knowl 
edge  of  English  was  increasing ;  his  stock  of  money  was 
daily  slipping  away.  And  now  he  was  himself  in  "  Misery 
Market,"  with  only  a  small  sum  and  his  gold  watch  in 
his  pocket.  He  must  have  work,  and  he  went  to  a  fel 
low-exile,  who  had  settled  in  Eldridge  Street,  to  see  how  he 
was  getting  on,  and  to  ask  his  advice.  Ah  !  how  clearly 
and  with  what  deadly  sharpness  now  arose  before  him  the 
pictures  of  the  next  few  months  of  his  life,  —  the  sicken 
ing  search  for  work,  the  wretched  lodgings,  the  repulsive 
food,  the  failure  to  find  anything  to  do. 


80  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

At  last,  when  he  had  sold  his  two  fur  coats,  his  fur  cap, 
and  was  beginning  to  despair,  he  was  told  "  to  become  an 
operator."  What  was  that  ?  Ah  !  he  must  be  introduced 
to  a  boss  !  Quick  !  Into  Ludlow  Street,  to  the  top  floor  of 
a  wretched  house,  and  there  he  was  presented  to  a  "  bos>s." 

The  face  was  familiar.  Joseph  looked  at  the  man  ;  the 
man  inspected  him.  The  "  boss  "  used  to  be  a  servant  of 
Joseph's  uncle  in  Russia.  Now  he  was  in  the  noble  indus 
try  of  manufacturing  knee-pants  for  the  million.  Joseph 
should  have  the  privilege  of  learning  this  inestimable  trade. 
It  would  cost  him  fifteen  dollars  to  learn,  and  in  four  weeks 
he  would  be  an  accomplished  operator.  And  he  must  have 
a  machine,  on  which  he  must  pay  three  dollars. 

Joseph  accepted,  and  sold  his  few  remaining  treasures 
for  money  to  instal  himself  in  what  he  dimly  began  to  per 
ceive  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  "  sweater's  hell." 

The  boss  obligingly  set  Joseph  at  work  stitching  pockets. 
At  the  end  of  four  weeks  Joseph  knew  nothing  of  this 
great,  this  [magnificent  industry  which  the  generosity  of 
the  boss  had  permitted  him  to  learn,  except  stitching  of 
pockets  and  bands. 

Then  the  boss  grandiloquently  remarked,  "  I  will  pay 
you  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  week,  until  you  learn  a  little 
better ; "  and  Joseph,  crushed  in  spirit,  accepted. 

Ah !  how  terrible  were  the  remembrances  which  now 
arose  before  him — the  remembrances  of  that  sweater's 
den,'  with  the  sweater,  his  wife,  his  three  children,  and 
four  boarders,  living  there  day  and  night,  in  an  inexpress 
ible  and  abominable  atmosphere,  and  crowding  in  there  by 
day,  from  long  before  dawn  until  ten  at  night,  eight  oper 
ators  on  machines,  and  seven  finishers  and  a  presser ! 

How  the  spectacle  of  this  horrible  life  of  rending  and 
grinding  toil,  in  which  he  and  all  the  others  were  treated 
like  machines,  made  him  groan  in  spirit !  He  asked  a 


THE  PANORAMA  OP  SUFFERING         81 

question  of  the  sweater,  and  learned  by  the  response  that 
he  was  no  longer  a  man,  with  an  identity,  a  name,  but  that 
he  had  a  number,  like  a  prisoner  ;  that  he  was  "  number 
six."  And  as  he  contemplated  this  picture,  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  could  feel  his  fingers  tightening  around  the 
boss's  throat. 

It  was  "  dull  season "  for  three  weeks  after  Joseph 
entered  the  sweater's  hell.  The  sweater  did  not  volunteer 
to  raise  his  wages.  That  never  happened  in  sweaterdom  ! 
Oh,  no  !  A  kick,  a  scuffle,  and  a  lowering  of  wages  — 
that  was  the  rule. 

By  and  by  the  busy  season  came.  Joseph  watered  the 
cloth  over  which  he  bent  with  his  tears  every  day.  The 
tyrannies  which  he  saw  all  around  him  froze  his  blood. 
They  alarmed  him  for  his  own  safety.  He  felt  that  he 
was  losing  his  manliness. 

There  he  sat,  in  his  corner,  near  the  dirt-begrimed  win 
dow,  toiling  to  make  a  dozen  knee-pants  for  thirty-five 
cents.  He  was  on  piece-work  now,  and  he  lived  on  bread 
and  apples. 

Joseph  was  a  slow  operator,  and  the  first  day  of  his  piece 
work  he  made  seventeen  cents.  Hour  after  hour  he  toiled 
without  rest,  until  the  humming  of  his  machine  seemed  to 
eat  into  his  brain. 

One  day  he  cried  out,  "  This  is  not  a  life  for  men ;  we  are 
animals  here  !  " 

The  boss  grew  angry,  and  said  that  he  allowed  no  speech- 
making  on  his  premises.  He  told  Joseph  to  "  get  out." 

"  Give  me  my  pay,"  said  Joseph. 

"  A  man  who  is  discharged  must  wait  a  week  for  his 
money,"  answered  the  boss  with  his  evil  smile.  And  Joseph 
had  to  starve  for  a  while  as  penance  for  his  independence. 

When  he  came  for  the  money  at  the  end  of  seven  days 
he  was  so  weak  with  hunger  that  he  could  scarcely  stand. 


82  JOSEPH    ZALMONAII 

The  boss  threw  his  miserable  pittance  in  his  face,  and  told 
him  to  begone. 

Joseph  had  had  a  touch  of  starvation,  and  he  did  not  like 
it.  So  in  a  day  or  two  he  was  in  the  den  of  another 
"  sweater,"  still  in  Ludlow  Street.  And  this  was  the  pic 
ture  of  the  life  in  that  second  hell  which  now  arose  before 
him. 

Four  grimy  and  unventilated  rooms,  in  which  lived,  ate, 
and  slept  the  sweater,  his  wife,  and  four  children,  his 
brother-in-law,  his  wife,  and  two  children,  and  three  board 
ers.  These  boarders  were  poor  wretches  who  were  kept  in 
practical  slavery.  The  sweater  would  not  let  them  out  of 
his  sight,  lest  they  should  learn  of  better  things  and  desert 
him.  Once  a  week  they  took  the  air,  walking,  pale  phan 
toms,  in  some  of  the  side  streets  in  the  quarter,  but  never 
getting  beyond  the  sweater's  tether. 

They  slept  in  dusty  recesses  in  the  kitchen,  and  arose 
long  before  dawn,  and  went  into  the  hall  while  the  women 
and  children  washed  and  dressed,  and  prepared  the  abject 
apology  for  breakfast  which  was  set  before  them  on 
the  edges  of  their  machines.  How  the  passage  of  all 
these  scenes  before  Joseph's  inner  vision  tormented  his 
soul ! 

It  was  like  the  reopening  of  an  old  wound. 

Here  Joseph  was  told  that  he  would  receive  "forty cents 
a  dozen  for  knee-pants."  He  went  courageously  to  work, 
with  a  partner;  Joseph  preparing,  the  partner  stitching. 

His  associate  was  a  pale  young  Hebrew  from  Wilnau  in 
Russia  —  a  youth  of  nineteen,  with  high  brow  and  hand 
some  eyes. 

But  the  cruel  toil  had,  in  less  than  a  year,  so  bent  and 
broken  him  that  he  looked  like  an  old  man.  He  spoke  but 
little ;  now  and  then  he  sighed  deeply.  He  would  never 
stop  for  dinner,  which  was  usually  brought  in  from  a  neigh- 


THE   PANOHAMA   OF   SUFFERING  83 

boring  restaurant  —  a  miserable  mess  of  poorly  cooked 
food. 

"I  am  not  hungry,"  he  would  say,  and  he  would  go  on 
stitching,  stitching,  and  guiding  with  trembling  hands  the 
stuffs  on  which  his  tears  often  fell.  It  was  in  his  behalf 
that  Joseph  cried  out  one  day  against  the  long  hours  —  from 
live  in  the  morning  until  ten  at  night  —  exacted  by  the 
sweaters.  But  the  boss  laughed  in  his  face. 

"  I  can  get  five  hundred  to  take  your  place  by  shaking 
my  shears  out  of  the  front  window."  And  Joseph  knew 
that  it  was  true. 

One  day,  when  the  heat  was  stifling  in  the  den,  Joseph 
was  startled  to  see  his  "partner"  lying  with  his  head  on 
his  work,  and  his  poor  toil-scarred  hands  resting  help 
lessly  on  the  cloth. 

He  ran  to  him  and  raised  him  up,  and  the  eyes  opened 
for  a  moment,  and  the  lips  babbled  of  Wilnau,  and  of  green 
fields,  and  of  the  good  mother,  and  the  quaint  little  village 
far  away ;  then  they  closed  again. 

"  He's  done  for,"  said  the  boss.  "  Take  him  to  a  hos 
pital." 

And  it  was  in  a  hospital  that  the  wretched  youth  died  the 
next  day.  In  his  dream  Joseph  saw  the  vision  of  this  death 
bed,  beside  which  he  had  knelt,  and  he  shuddered  in  his 
sleep.  The  man  had  fallen  under  the  lash,  as  slaves  fell, 
and  he  had  not  had  the  strength  to  rally. 

"  Driven  to  death,"  was  the  epitaph  which  Joseph  would 
have  liked  to  place  upon  his  humble  headstone. 

The  dead  youth's  cousin  came  and  claimed  his  wages  — 
eight  dollars  and  forty  cents.  That  was  his  estate. 

When  Joseph  arose  from  his  long  revery  beside  the  bed 
of  this  martyr  to  the  tyranny  of  brutal  employers,  his 
brain  boiled  with  indignation.  He  wanted  vengeance 
for  the  dead,  for  himself,  for  his  insulted  manhood,  for 


84  'JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

the  women  and  children  perishing  in  the  cesspools  of 
civilization. 

He  went  back  to  work.  But  he  now  began  boldly  to  agi 
tate  for  reform  among  the  sweaters.  A  Hebrew  "  labor 
paper "  had  been  started,  and  at  its  office  meetings  were 
held  at  which  the  victims  of  the  Russian  persecution  met 
to  compare  notes.  There  Joseph  found  others,  galled  like 
himself  by  the  sweater's  yoke,  and  he  began  to  talk  of 
organizing  for  mutual  protection. 

The  others  looked  at  him.  Then  they  began  to  talk  of 
the  "social  revolution." 

It  did  not  take  Joseph  long  to  discover  that  they  were 
not  ripe  for  unions  and  the  legal  methods  of  strikes,  but 
that  they  had  been  seduced  by  glittering  descriptions  of 
some  mysterious  social  cataclysm,  at  the  close  of  which 
they  would  be  called  upon  the  scene  to  divide  up  the  vast 
riches  of  the  millionaires  of  America. 

Their  imaginations  were  inflamed,  and  their  ignorance  of 
the  new  conditions  of  life  in  America,  and  of  any  language 
save  their  own,  as  well  as  the  unnatural  nervous  state  in 
which  their  excessive  toil  constantly  kept  them,  rendered 
them  peculiarly  susceptible  to  belief  even  in  the  most 
absurd  theories. 

Joseph  turned  from  these  unhappy  creatures  in  sorrow, 
and  for  a  long  time  sought  in  vain  for  a  way  to  check  the 
tyranny  from  which  he  suffered.  One  day  he  strayed 
into  a  meeting  held  by  the  Hebrew  branch  of  the  Socialis 
tic  Labor  Union  in  East  Broadway. 

The  first  speaker  whom  he  heard  was  a  well-educated 
man,  who  advocated  the  principles  of  trades'  unionism. 
He  said,  "The  only  hope  for  labor  lies  in  organization." 

These  were  Joseph's  sentiments  exactly.  He  took  the 
floor  and  said,  "  Are  there  any  knee-pants  makers  here  ?  " 

A  few  men  came  forward  timidly.     But  Joseph  inspired 


THE   PANORAMA    OF    SUFFERING  85 

them  with  his  own  courage.  They  formed  a  C-iion  then 
and  there.  Their  first  meeting  was  held  on  the  following 
Saturday,  with  fifteen  members,  and  Joseph  was  iU  secre 
tary  and  treasurer. 

The  initiation  fee  was  seventy-five  cents ;  weekly  dues 
were  five  cents.  The  men  liked  these  conditions,  and  the 
Union  kept  growing. 

Victims  of  sweaters  in  other  branches  of  tha  trade 
started  Unions.  So  Joseph  welded  all  these  together, 
forming  the  United  Hebrew  Trades.  Now  he  began  to 
feel  strong,  for  he  had  a  compact  body  at  his  back. 

Meantime  he  worked  steadily  at  his  trade.  One  day  the 
boss  bestowed  an  evil  smile  on  him,  and  said,  "  You'd 
better  go  to  the  United  Hebrew  Trades,  and  ask  for  em 
ployment  there." 

Joseph  said,  "I  will  take  your  advice."  He  left  the 
sweater's  hell,  and  devoted  himself  for  a  time  exclusively 
to  the  union,  working  without  salary.  When  he  could 
starve  no  longer,  he  would  go  back  to  work  —  now  as  opera 
tor  at  cloakmaking,  now  as  maker  of  jerseys,  suffering  petty 
vexations  and  tyrannies,  and  sometimes  earning  eight  dol 
lars  per  week  by  toiling  from  dawn  until  ten  P.M. 

Presently  the  bosses  knew  him  as  an  agitator,  and  then 
they  insulted  and  imposed  upon  him.  One  day,  at  a  fac 
tory  in  Ludlow  Street,  his  soul  revolted  against  the  boss, 
who  was  always  drunk,  and  whose  favorite  pastime  was 
kicking  men  out  of  the  line  on  Saturdays,  and  then  refus 
ing  to  pay  them  until  the  following  week  because  they  had 
not  kept  in  line. 

Joseph  thrashed  this  monster  within  an  inch  of  his  life, 
and  left  without  claiming  his  own  wages. 

And  so  he  went  on  for  weeks,  rebelling  against  the 
abominable  tyrants,  and  receiving  his  discharge  from 
places  as  soon  as  he  was  known  as  an  agitator.  Once, 


8G  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAII 

after  seeing  an  old  man  deprived  of  his  work  under  circum 
stances  of  great  cruelty,  lie  went  around  to  the  Monday 
evening  labor  meeting,  and  there  found  a  delegation  of 
cloakmakers  asking  to  be  admitted  to  the  United  Hebrew 
Trades. 

Joseph  interested  himself  in  the  lot  of  these  poor  people, 
much  more  grievously  oppressed  than  any  of  the  others. 
He  organized  them,  aud  hurled  them  against  their  em 
ployers  in  strike  after  strike.  He  received  no  money  for 
these  services  to  the  starving  workers ;  he  had  no  time  to 
ask  for  it. 

And  now  arose  before  him  in  dream  the  picture  of  the 
old  office  iii  Hester  Street,  where  he  lived  alone  for  eleven 
weeks,  organizing  these  strikes.  He  slept  on  a  little  broken- 
legged  sofa ;  he  rarely  ate  more  than  once  a  day.  From 
dawn  till  midnight  he  fought  the  battles  of  the  poor,  and 
more  than  one  rich  manufacturer  had  to  avo.w  that  at  last 
the  refugees  were  learning  the  worth  of  their  services. 

The  cloakmakers  started  with  thirty  men  in  their  Union, 
but  Joseph  soon  brought  two  or  three  thousand  men  into 
the  ranks.  To  do  this  he  had  so  completely  effaced  his 
own  interest  that  he  had  few  clothes,  no  money,  and  no 
home,  when,  in  sinister  interference  with  the  emancipation 
toward  which  he  seemed  leading  the  starving  thousands, 
the  great  lock-out  came. 

The  lock-out !  The  vision  of  the  wan  men  standing 
about,  unemployed  and  starving,  was  so  dolorous  to  Joseph 
that  he  awoke  from  the  uneasy  slumber  into  which  he  had 
fallen. 

He  looked  quickly  around.  The  door  of  the  office  was 
open,  and  Miry  am  was  standing  near  him,  her  charming 
face  radiant  with  smiles. 


WHEN   THE   OX   IS   DOWN  87 


CHAPTER   VIII 

WHEN    THE    OX    IS    DOWN 

"  I  MUST  have  been  asleep,"  said  Joseph,  who  felt  a 
sharp  pain  in  his  side,  and  around  whose  forehead  an  iron 
circlet  seemed  slowly  tightening. 

"And  dreaming,"  said  the  little  maid.  "And,  Joseph, 
you  talked  in  your  sleep  !  Oh  !  you  said  such  dreadful 
things  against  the  sweaters  !  Well,  it  is  lucky  that  no  one 
but  little  Miryam  heard  you  !  How  imprudent  of  you  to 
go  to  sleep  with  the  door  wide  open  !  Isn't  it  strange  that 
no  one  has  been  here  to  wake  you  ?  And  the  clerk  ?  " 

Joseph  explained  that  the  clerk  had  been  mercifully 
sent  away  some  days  ago,  because  there  was  no  longer  any 
money  to  pay  him.  "  And  as  for  speaking  ill  of  the 
sweaters,"  he  added  briskly,  "  why,  who  speaks  well  of 
them  ?  " 

"  But  the  door,  Joseph,  the  door  !  Promise  me  that  you 
will  never  go  to  sleep  with  the  place  wide  open  to  robbers, 
and  "  — 

"  And  Socialists,"  said  Joseph,  smiling. 

"Yes,  and  Socialists.  And,  by  the  way,  Joseph,"  said 
the  pretty  maiden,  speaking  lower,  and  glancing  hastily 
around,  "  that  is  exactly  what  I  have  come  to  speak  with 
you  about.  You  know  that  some  of  the  Socialists  have 
terribly  hot  heads,  and  they  are  very  angry  with  you. 
The}-  say  that  you  stand  in  their  way." 


88  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

"  So  I  do,"  said  Joseph  grimly,  and  the  fire  flashed  from 
his  tired  eyes. 

"  Yes,  but  —  they  might  kill  you,  Joseph.  They  do  not 
care  what  they  do.  They  are  men  without  hearts." 

"  "We  can  die  but  once,"  remarked  Joseph  in  philosophic 
tone.  "But  if  you  have  heard  any  threats,  Miryam,  it 
is  your  duty  to  tell  me  what  they  are.  Forewarned  is 
forearmed." 

"  David  heard,"  said  Miryam,  almost  in  a  whisper.  "  He 
heard  two  Socialists  saying  something  awful  about  you. 
It  was,  he  said,  enough  to  make  the  blood  run  cold." 

"  And  yet  he  told  it  to  little  Miryam  ?  " 

"  N-o,"  answered  the  child- woman,  flushing  faintly. 

"  Then  who  did  he  tell  ?  " 

"Bathsheba.  You  know,  the  wife  of  the  dark-faced 
fiddler.  Yes.  He  told  her.  And  he  said  she  must  not 
tell  me,  because  I  am  a  little  gossip.  But  she  thought  it 
was  her  duty  to  tell  me  at  once." 

"  Bathsheba  !  "  Joseph's  heart  gave  a  great  jump,  and 
the  color  leaped  into  his  face.  He  could  have  struck  him 
self  for  this.  "  Why  —  I  thought  her  sympathies  were 
with  Socialists,  and  all  such  cattle." 

"  Perhaps  they  -are.  But  she  said  you  ought  to  know. 
She  said  that  you  were  too  earnest  a  leader  to  be  lost  in  a 
street  row.  She  said  "  — 

Miryam  paused  suddenly,  and  cast  down  her  eyes.  Then, 
as  if  moved  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  she  raised  them 
again,  and  as  she  looked  Joseph  in  the  face,  he  saw  that 
they  were  swimming  in  tears.  She  held  out  both  hands  to 
the  young  leader.  "  Oh,  do  be  careful,  Joseph  ! "  she  said. 
"  Think  of  Malcha  and  the  little  one  ! " 

"  I  do  !  I  will !  "  cried  Joseph,  seizing  the  small  hands, 
and  giving  them  a  brotherly  caress.  "  But  Bathsheba  —  I 
do  not  see  how  "  — 


WHEN    THE   OX   IS   DOWN  89 

"  It  is  this  way,  Joseph,"  said  Miryam.  "  Her  husband 
sees  a  great  many  of  these  people,  and  gets  into  their  way 
of  talking.  And  sometimes  she  repeats  what  she  hears 
him  say.  Then  they  say  she  is  a  revolutionist.  But  I 
know  better.  She  hates  them  —  only  she  is  afraid  of  them. 
She  says  so."  The  girl  seemed  confused.  But  Joseph 
listened  with  an  interest  he  could  scarcely  conceal. 

"  Listen,"  said  Miryam.  "  They  will  not  tell  me  all. 
They  say  I  am  too  young.  Even  Bathsheba  would  not  give 
me  any  details.  But  she  will  tell  you  —  she  says  it  is  her 
duty  to  do  so." 

"  She  will  tell  me  ?     How  —  when  —  where  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  Mordecai  Menzer  ?  "  said  Miryam. 

''The  people's  poet?  No.  I  have  heard  of  him,  but 
I  have  never  seen  him.  What  should  he  have  in  common 
with  a  poor  knee-pants  maker  like  me  ?  " 

"  0  Joseph  !  "  cried  Miryam,  with  a  sparkle  of  indigna 
tion  in  her  eyes  at  the  young  leader's  self-depreciation. 
"  Mordecai  worships  the  very  ground  that  you  walk  on  ! 
You  do  not  know  how  famous  you  are  !" 

"  This  is  indeed  news  !  "  said  Joseph,  laughing  in  spite  of 
his  fatigue,  and  of  the  strange  melancholy  and  languor  tak 
ing  possession  of  his  heart. 

"  It  is  true.  At  this  moment  he  is  composing  a  poem 
about  the  sweaters  and  the  poor  work-people.  And  he 
asked  me  if  I  could  not  bring  you  to  his  house  to-morrow, 
lie  wants  to  talk  with  you  about  the  movement.  And  if 
you  could  come,"  continued  the  girl,  very  glibly,  as  if  she 
were  reciting  a  lesson,  "  Bathsheba  could  be  there,  and 
then  she  could  tell  you  all.  To-morrow,  in  the  afternoon. 
If  you  could  come  for  me  at  the  theatre  after  rehearsal,  I 
could  take  you  there." 

Joseph  reflected.  Waves  of  light  came  and  went  over 
his  face,  as  if  two  spirits  were  battling  above  him,  and 


90  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

the  sheen  of  their  wings  fell  upon  him.  Presently  he 
said,  — 

"  I  will  go  with  you  to  see  Mordecai  to-morrow.  I  will 
meet  you  as  you  wish." 

"  And  Bathsheba  ?  "  asked  Miry  am  timidly. 

"  If  Bathsheba  is  there,  and  has  anything  to  tell  which  I 
ought  to  know,  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  it,  and  grateful  to 
her,"  he  said  in  a  dry,  cold  tone.  "And  now  let  us  go 
to  poor  Malcha." 

And  as  they  went  rapidly  along  the  street,  he  told  her 
the  story  of  the  previous  night.  Miry  am  opened  her  great 
eyes  widely,  but  said  little,  until  they  were  approaching 
the  house,  when  she  remarked  that  perhaps  he  would  like 
to  have  Malcha  accompany  them  on  the  morrow. 

"  No  —  not  to-morrow,"  said  Joseph.  "  And  it  would  be 
best  not  to  say  anything  to  her  at  present  about  the  visit 
or  the  threats." 

"  It  would  only  frighten  her.  And  she  could  do  no  good 
even  if  she  knew,"  said  Miryam. 

The  streets  were  quiet  in  the  cloakmakers'  quarter. 
Joseph  and  Miryam  found  Malcha  and  the  child  sitting  on 
the  front  steps.  The  little  wife  looked  wan  and  worried, 
but  at  sight  of  Joseph  she  rose  up  joyously,  and  ran  to 
embrace  him. 

She  had  heard  the  whole  story  of  the  night's  work  from 
a  dozen  sympathizing  souls,  and  was  ready  to  adore  Joseph 
as  a  hero. 

There  was  a  touch  of  jealousy  in  the  way  in  which  she 
drew  him  away  from  Miryam,  placed  little  Zipporah  in  his 
arms,  and  told  him  of  the  breakfast  awaiting  him  —  ''just 
like  those  he  used  to  have  in  Russia."  But  she  kept  the 
small  actress  to  share  their  meal,  and  complimented  her 
on  her  personation  of  Jochanau  in  "Judith  and  Holo- 
feruus." 


WHEN   THE   OX   IS   DOWN  91 

"  Breakfast !  "  said  the  bewildered  Joseph.  "  And  I  have 
been  sleeping  like  a  pig,  and  forgot  to  bring  you  this 
money,"  and  he  held  out  the  two  dollars  which  remained 
from  the  morning's  distribution. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Malcha  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 
"  I  still  have  ten  roubles  left,  and  that  is  riches  in  this 
quarter,  I  think." 

"  Yes ;  if  a  sweater  knows  you  have  got  it,  he  will  soon 
get  it  away  from  you,"  said  Joseph,  watching  Malcha  with 
admiration  as  she  poured  the  tea  from  the  homely  little 
samovar,  which  recalled  the  old  days  at  home. 

Yet,  in  the  burnished  samovar  he  seemed  to  see  Bathshe- 
ba's  beautiful  face  dancing,  as  the  will-o'-the-wisp  danced 
over  the  green  pools  in  the  far  Russian  land  when  he  was  a 
boy  wandering  on  the  edge  of  the  forest. 

He  put  his  hands  to  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the  sight. 

"  Poor  Joseph,"  said  Malcha,  stealing  an  arm  about  his 
neck.  "  He  is  worn  out  with  these  doings.  One  thing  I 
have  sworn,  and  that  is  that  no  one  shall  disturb  us  until 
this  tired  man  is  refreshed,  and  has  had  a  good  nap." 

"  Yes,  Joseph,"  said  Miry  am,  "  you  look  as  if  you  had 
seen  a  spirit." 

Joseph  stared  again  at  the  samovar,  but  he  took  the  cup 
of  tea  which  his  wife  handed  him,  and  drank  it  eagerly. 

Just  as  they  were  laughing  at  some  quaint  remark  by 
ittle  Zipporah,  and  as  Joseph  was  beginning  to  feel  reposed 
and  tranquil,  there  came  a  tremendous  clatter  at  the  door, 
and  in  rushed  Ben  Zion,  his  naming  hair  and  beard  in  dis 
order,  and  behind  him  Avere  half  a  dozen  cloakmakers,  ges 
ticulating  wildly,  and  shouting  in  jargon. 

At  sight  of  this  embassy,  the  fourth  or  fifth  she  had  seen 
that  morning  from  the  perturbed  laborers,  Malcha's  ire 
rose,  and  she  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Get  outside  of  that  door,  every  one  of  you  !  "  she  cried, 


92  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

brandishing  her  knife  and  fork  as  if  she  meant  to  assault 
the  intruders,  "  and  don't  let  me  hear  a  word  from  you 
until  Joseph  has  finished  his  breakfast.  Do  you  want  to 
worry  him  to  death  ?  " 

"  My  faith,  missus  ! "  said  one  of  the  men,  an  ill-natured 
fellow,  "if  he  had  no.  more  breakfast  to  eat  than  we  have 
at  our  house  he  would  have  finished  it  long  ago." 

"Now,  Malcha,"  said  Joseph,  rising  and  preparing  to 
attend  to  the  men. 

"  Now  nothing  !  "  cried  the  resolute  wife,  forcing  him 
down  into  his  seat.  "  Are  we  slaves  ?  Isn't  your  breath 
your  own  ?  What  are  these  folks  to  us  ?  Let  them  air 
their  troubles  on  the  doorstep,'  and  wait  until  you  have  had 
a  cup  of  tea." 

Then  catching  up  some  dried  fish  and  bits  of  bread  from 
the  table,  she  distributed  them  among  the  men,  saying,  - — 

"  Munch  that  outside,  and  wait !  Do  you  think  we  are 
your  servants  ?  " 

"  I'll  attend  to  'em,  Malcha !  I'll  keep  them  in  order," 
cried  Ben  Zion  ;  and  he  hurried  the  men  out. 

"  I  see  you  don't  understand,  small  wife,"  said  Joseph, 
"  that  a  labor  leader  is  the  servant  of  his  people.  But  you 
will  come  to  realize  it  after  a  while." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense !  If  another  of  those  whining 
needle-pushers  sets  his  foot  in  here  without  permission,  I'll 
pour  the  tea  down  his  back  !  "  she  said.  And  she  would 
have  done  it. 

But  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Joseph  summoned  the  dele 
gation,  and  his  heart  leaped  up  with  hope  when  he  heard 
the  news  that  they  had  brought. 

Freier  and  Monach,  who  were  the  originators  of  the 
look-out,  and  who  had  always  been  the  most  obstinate 
and  rebellious  of  the  manufacturers,  had  at  last  consented 
to  receive  a  committee  from  the  starving  cloakmakers. 


WHEN   THE   OX   IS   DOWN  93 

The  truth  was  that  they  had  heard  of  the  doings  of  the 
previous  night,  and  were  alarmed.  They  had  been  told  that 
some  of  the  Socialists  had  proposed  to  sack  their  stores,  but 
that  Joseph  had  restrained  them. 

So  they  felt  curious  to  hear  what  Joseph  might  have  to 
say. 

It  was  a  recent  action  of  Freier  and  Monach' s  which  had 
brought  the  agony  of  the  famished  refugees  to  a  crisis. 
The  firm  had  suddenly  and  brutally  ordered  thirty  of  its 
men,  one  morning,  to  go  home.  The  poor  men,  to  whom 
going  home  in  the  dull  season  meant  starvation,  protested 
that  they  had  an  agreement  with  the  firm  to  employ  them 
until  the  busy  season  came  round  again. 

Freier  and  Monach  snapped  their  fingers  at  the  agree 
ment,  and  said,  "  You  can  do  what  you  like.  We  are  not 
afraid  of  you.  Go  and  loaf  with  the  thirty  thousand  others 
who  are  locked  out." 

"We  must  have  a  'shop  meeting,'"  said  the  men,  who 
hoped  to  tide  over  the  difficulty.  As  a  result  of  this  meet 
ing,  which  was  promptly  held,  Freier  and  Monach  made  a 
price-list,  which  priced  every  garment  by  number.  "  Every 
thing  is  now  set  down  in  black  and  white,"  they  said. 
"  There  can  be  no  dispute,  and  you  can  come  back  to  work 
if  you  wish  to  do  so." 

The  men  fell  into  the  trap,  and  it  was  not  until  Freier 
and  Monach  began  to  juggle  with  these  new  prices,  that 
they  saw  through  the  trick,  and  understood  why  they  had 
been  dismissed  and  recalled. 

They  remonstrated  against  the  new  tyrannies  which  the 
firm  now  imposed,  but  in  vain.  Their  wages  were  cut  and 
pared,  and  all  the  conditions  as  to  prices  for  "  piece-work  " 
Avere  violated. 

Then  the  men  stopped  work  of  their  own  accord,  leaving 
Freier  and  Monach  with  a  very  large  number  of  unfinished 


94  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

contracts  upon  their  hands.  The  employers  roared,  but  in 
vain.  No  one  would  come  to  work  for  them. 

The  toilers  in  many  sweating-shops  in  relation  with 
Freier  and  Monach  stopped  work  also,  out  of  sympathy  for 
their  oppressed  brethren. 

Freier  and  Monach  roared  again,  and  determined  to  strike 
back.  They  started  an  organization  of  manufacturers  — 
and  all  the  cutters  were  locked  out.  Then  thirty  manufac 
turers  of  cloaks  simultaneously  discharged  their  men. 

Thus  the  industry  was  paralyzed,  the  necessary  prepara 
tions  for  the  brisk  season  were  checked.  The  employers 
were  anxious,  and  the  locked-out  workmen  were  starving. 

And  now,  alarmed  at  the  wild  manifestations  of  the  hun 
gry  men  and  women,  Freier  and  Monach  asked  for  a 
committee. 

"  Let  us  form  it  at  once,"  said  the  men  who  were  await 
ing  Joseph  on  the  doorsteps,  "  and  you  shall  head  it." 

"Very  well,"  said  Joseph.  He  picked  out  two  or  three 
resolute  men,  who  represented  the  different  departments  of 
the  cloakmaking  industry,  and  placed  himself  at  their 
head.  Ben  Zion  remained  to  comfort  Malcha  and  Miryam 
with  his  quaint  sayings,  and  Joseph  set  out  on  his  mission 
at  once. 

"  You  will  let  me  deal  with  these  people,"  he  said  to  his 
fellow  committee-men.  "Forget  that  you  are  hungry! 
Remember  that  we  are  at  war  for  our  rights  ! " 

They  strode  into  Canal  Street,  to  the  stuffy  office  where 
it  was  understood  that  Freier  and  Monach  awaited  them. 

When  they  reached  the  place  they  found  a  greasy  look 
ing  personage  dressed  in  black,  with  a  huge  diamond  in  his 
shirt  front,  sitting  on  a  pile  of  unfinished  cloaks. 

Joseph  went  in  and  faced  this  individual,  who  said 
gruffly, — 

"  What  is  it  you  want  ?  " 


WHEN   THE  OX   IS   DOWN  95 

"We  don't  want  anything,"  said  Joseph.  "It  is  you 
who  want." 

The  personage  with  the  diamond  looked  at  Joseph  as  if 
he  were  some  curious  beast,  or  a  bird  of  extraordinary 
plumage.  Then  he  cried  at  him  again,  in  a  harsh,  domi 
neering  voice,  — 

"  Well,  what  is  it  that  you  want  ?  " 

As  Joseph  felt  that  the  question  was  already  answered, 
he  made  no  response,  but  stood  to  his  guns. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  you  are  the  committee  from  the  Union," 
sneered  the  personage,  talking  in  English,  and  appearing  to 
look  down  on  Joseph. 

"  We  are,"  said  Joseph ;  "  and  AVC  have  no  time  to 
waste." 

"  Well,  you  can  wait  until  we  are  ready,  I  suppose." 

"  We  will  wait  one  minute  —  no  longer,"  said  Joseph. 
"  And  if  we  go  away  now  you  may  find  it  more  difficult  to 
fetch  us  a  second  time." 

At  this  there  was  a  roar,  like  that  of  a  wild  bull,  behind 
a  thin  partition  at  one  end  of  the  room,  and  Freier,  the  re 
doubtable  sweater  and  oppressor,  bounced  out  from  his 
concealment,  and  came  rapidly  towards  them. 

Freier  was  a  huge,  brawny  man,  elaborately  dressed,  with 
a  rolling  shirt-collar  and  a  profusion  of  jewellery,  which 
gave  him  the  air  of  a  travelling  theatrical  manager. 

He  was  renowned  as  a  knocker-down  and  dragger-out  of 
workmen  who  rebelled  against  his  tyrannies.  Tradition 
said,  too,  that  he  did  not  scruple  to  raise  his  hand  against 
the  hapless  women  whom  he  employed. 

He  knew  Joseph,  who  had  once  been  into  his  factory  to 
claim  justice  for  an  old  man  whom  he  had  abused.  But  it 
did  not  suit  his  present  purpose  to  recognize  him.  He 
puffed  up  his  cheeks,  took  out  a  cigar,  lighted  it,  smoked 
in  Joseph's  face,  and  finally  said,  — 


96  JOSEPH    ZALMONAII 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

Joseph  smiled.     "From  Russia,"  he  said;  "and  you?" 

Freier  scowled.  "  What  is  your  purpose  here  ? "  he 
said  menacingly. 

"  To  confer  with  you  as  member  of  a  committee  on  the 
subject  of  the  lock-out." 

*'  Yes,  yes,"  said  Freier.  "  All  the  men  on  the  pave 
ment,  with  empty  bellies  —  and  all  because  of  your  cursed 
interference." 

Joseph's  eyes  flashed.  "  I  will  always  interfere  to  see 
that  my  fellow-workmen  are  not  oppressed,"  he  said. 
"  This  is  a  free  country.  It  might  be  well  for  you  to  re 
member  that." 

"All  the  manufacturers  are  acting  with  us,"  snarled 
Freier.  "  We  know  what  we  are  about." 

"  '  When  the  ox  is  down,  many  are  the  butchers,' "  said 
Joseph,  quoting  the  cynical  Hebrew  proverb. 

"  You  will  come  to  be  hanged  yet  for  stirring  up  the  peo 
ple,"  said  Freier,  coming  close  to  Joseph  and  puffing  clouds 
of  smoke  in  his  face. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  lose  but  my  neck.  You,  too,  have 
one  that  would  fit  a  rope." 

Freier  raised  his  hand,  but  he  saw.  Joseph's  resolute,  pale 
face,  and  he  observed  that  Joseph's  companions  were  clos 
ing  around  him.  He  dashed  his  cigar  to  the  floor,  — 

"  I  will  give  you  as  much  money  as  you  want  to  go  back 
to  Russia  and  to  stay  there,"  he  said.  He  disdained  even 
to  lower  his  voice.  He  fancied  he  could  buy  the  whole 
committee. 

"I  would  advise  you  not  to  say  anything  of  that  kind  to 
me  again,"  said  Joseph,  clenching  his  fist.  The  conversa 
tion  had  been  in  English,  but  he  spoke  the  familiar  jargon 
now. 

"Well,"  said  Freier,  a  little  abashed,   "if  you  wish  to 


WHEN    THE   OX   IS    DOWN  97 

be  saucy,  you  can  go  home  again  as  fast  as  you  came.  First 
of  all,  we  are  not  going  to  pay  any  different  prices,  and  we 
will  make  no  different  arrangements." 

"  If  you  will  coine  to  the  office  of  our  Union,  you  will 
talk  in  a  different  tone,"  said  Joseph. 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  a  lot  of  pasty-faced  Russian  refu 
gees,"  said  Freier  scornfully. 

"  They  are  not  to  be  married  to  you,  and  they  don't  care 
for  your  opinion." 

"  I  didn't  lock  them  out,"  said  Freier. 

As  this  was  a  lie,  Joseph  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
contradict  it. 

"  Then  all  our  trouble  in  coming  here  is  for  nothing  ! " 
said  one  of  Joseph's  companions.  "  Leave  the  old  fox  in 
his  den.  He  will  get  smoked  out  some  day." 

"  If  you  talk  that  way,"  said  Freier,  "  I  will  have  you 
thrown  out." 

"  And  if  you  do,"  said  the  cloakmaker,  "  I  will  bring  ten 
thousand  women  here  to  pull  you  to  pieces.  It  wouldn't 
take  long." 

Freier  stooped  and  picked  up  his  cigar. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  if  I  did  make  the  lock-out,  what  do 
you  suppose  I  did  it  for  ?  " 

His  face  was  quite  white  now,  and  he  showed  his  teeth 
like  a  wolf. 

"  It  was  because  of  men  like  him,"  he  snarled,  pointing 
at  Joseph.  "  It  was  because  I  am  tired  of  the  meddling 
and  interfering  of  such  men,  with  their  Unions  and  their 
committees  !  Do  you  think  I  am  afraid  of  him,  or  anybody 
like  him?" 

He  lighted  a  match  slowly  with  his  thick  white  ringers, 
applied  it  to  the  cigar,  and  blew  great  rings  of  smoke  slowly 
into  the  air. 

"  You  have  come  here,  and  you  have  threatened  me,"  he 


98  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

said.  "You,"  shaking  his  hand  at  Joseph,  "you  —  who 
ought  to  be  in  prison.  You  threaten  me.  But  I  will  show 
you  that  we  are  not  to  be  bullied.  If  your  men  want  to 
come  back  to  work  without  any  concessions,  let  them  come. 
If  not,  right  about  face,  and  get  out  of  here  !  The  police 
of  New  York  know  how  to  put  down  labor  riots.  Get  one 
up,  and  see  ! " 

And  once  more  he  puffed  the  smoke  of  his  cigar  insolently 
in  Joseph's  face. 


THE   PIG   MARKET  99 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE    PIG   MARKET 

IT  was  a  hot  and  airless  afternoon.  The  sun  beat  down 
with  terrific  force  on  the  push-carts  piled  high  with  unripe 
or  half-decayed  fruit  —  with  strawberries  which  had  lin 
gered  too  long  in  transit,  and  melons  which  had  not  seen 
enough  of  the  sun.  Sickening  exhalations  arose.  The 
voices  of  the  men  chanting  the  attractions  of  their  wares 
sank  to  a  sickly  wail.  The  old  women  squatted  on  the 
pavement,  drooped  their  scrawny  necks,  and  seemed  ready 
to  faint. 

Round  the  corner,  into  the  most  crowded  section  of  the 
"  Pig  Market,"  probably  so  called  because  everything  but 
pig  is  sold  there,  came  Ben  Zion,  languidly  pushing  his 
cart,  which  was  heaped  high  with  mottled  strawberries. 
Behind  him  was  a  bevy  of  young  girls,  dark-haired  and 
graceful,  but  with  the  fatal  pallor  of  the  sweaters'  dens 
upon  their  faces. 

"  If  you  go  a  step  farther,  Ben  Zion,"  cried  the  tallest  of 
the  girls,  "you  lose  our  patronage.  Do  you  think  we  want 
to  walk  all  the  way  to  Jerusalem  just  to  accommodate  you  ?  " 

Ben  Zion  halted  and  backed  his  cart  against  the  curb. 
The  girls  crowded  around  him.  But  he  did  not  seem  in 
clined  to  begin  trading  at  once.  He  held  up  one  hand, 
and  bent  his  head  in  the  attitude  of  listening. 

"  This  is  the  place,"  he  said.     "  Now  hark,  and  you  will 


100  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

hear  something  curious.  Open  your  ears,  you  silly  girls, 
and  tell  me  what  you  hear." 

The  girls  listened,  and  presently  perceived,  above  the 
clatter  and  hum  of  the  street,  the  clicking  of  thousands  of 
sewing-machines,  over  which,  in  front  and  back  garrets, 
men  and  women  were  bending  and  working  furiously,  with 
out  thought  or  hope  of  rest. 

Click-click-click-click-click !  went  the  machines,  xintil 
the  brain  was  possessed  with  the  burden  of  their  chorus, 
and  seemed  to  dance  to  the  rude  and  lilting  rhythm  into 
which  they  gradually  swung. 

There  was  something  almost  sinister  in  the  energy  and 
tirelessness  with  which  the  click-click  went  on,  as  if  behind 
it  were  a  tireless  and  unbending  will,  disdaining  fatigue, 
scorning  unhappiness,  and  toiling  forward  to  some  obscure 
vengeance  in  the  future. 

"  You  hear  it ! "  said  Ben  Zion,  shaking  his  hand  impres 
sively.  "Well,  if  the  Czar  who  kicked  us  out  of  the  Pale 
could  hear  it,  he  would  tremble  and  feel  faint.  Why  ? 
because  every  one  of  those  clicks  means  that  one  of  his 
enemies — you  know  —  one  of  those  enemies  that  never 
pardon,  is  moving  on  to  independence,  and  to  a  position 
where  he  or  she  can  strike  back  !  I  like  to  listen  to  the 
merry  chant !  It  does  my  heart  good." 

"  It  sounds  more  to  me,"  said  one  of  the  girls,  across 
whose  pallid  face  a  heavy  shadow  swept,  "like  infernal 
music,  to  which  the  sweaters  love  to  dance  on  our  graves, 
when  we  are  used  up,  and  can  work  no  more,  and  they  throw 
us  out ! " 

"  What  a  horrid  fancy  ! "  said  a  little  brunette.  "  And 
what  do  you  think  such  cattle  as  we  are  could  ever  do  to 
the  Czar,  Ben  Zion  ?  One  wag  of  his  beard,  and  you  would 
run  all  the  way  to  Siberia ! " 

"  Do  you  think  that  I  would  run  ?  "  said  the  little  ped- 


THE   PIG   MARKET  101 

ler  angrily.  "If  you  had  seen  me  and  Joseph  when  we 
took  landlord  Simon  by  the  beard  "  — 

"  What  did  you  do,  Ben  Zion  ? "  said  one  of  the  girls 
breathlessly. 

"  I  marshalled  the  army,"  said  the  pedler,  brandishing 
the  three-cornered  horn  of  coarse  paper  into  which  he  was 
presently  to  pour  three  cents'  worth  of  damaged  strawber 
ries.  "  I  was  the  grand  marshal !  If  you  had  seen  me 
then,  you  would  not  dare  to  accuse  Ben  Zion  of  running 
away ! " 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  hubbub  at  the  street  corner 
a  short  distance  above  them.  The  shuffling  and  the  patter 
of  hundreds  of  feet  were  heard.  Then  there  were  angry 
discussions,  oaths,  plaintive  protests,  shrieks,  and  maledic 
tions. 

A  huge  lumber  wagon,  drawn  by  smart  horses,  stood  in 
the  middle  of  the  street.  Several  resolute  men  were  ad 
vancing  beside  it,  peering  at  the  contents  of  each  push-cart, 
and  if  the  inspection  disappointed  them,  they  ordered  the 
suspected  articles  to  be  thrown  into  the  wagon.  Policemen 
at  front  and  back  were  ready  to  enforce  the  order. 

Ben  Zion  understood  the  situation  at  a  glance.  He 
whirled  his  little  cart  around,  and  was  off,  at  the  top  of  bis 
speed,  down  the  street,  and  away  from  the  Health  Board's 
Inspectors,  without  stopping  to  consider  the  total  contra 
diction  afforded  by  his  act  to  the  brave  words  which  had 
just  left  his  lips. 

As  he  sped  along,  his  decaying  merchandise  strewing  the 
pavement  on  either  side  of  the  cart,  the  inspectors  bawled 
after  him,  but  no  one  ventured  to  stop  him,  for  Ben  Zion 
had  a  ready  hand  and  a  still  more  ready  tongue. 

The  three  girls  laughed  the  hoarse,  ghastly  laugh  of  their 
overworked  class  as  they  saw  the  pedler  so  belying  his 
courageous  declaration,  and  they  followed  him  as  fast  as 


102  JOSEPH   ZALMONAF1 

they  could,  around  a  corner  and  into  a  narrow  alley  beyond 
the  precincts  of  the  "  Pig  Market." 

"There,  my  lambs  !"  said  Ben  Zion,  puffing  and  blowing 
and  fanning  himself  with  a  red  bandanna  pocket-handker 
chief.  "  I  ought  to  have  told  you  that  the  only  tiling  I  am 
bound  to  run  from  is  the  nasty,  prying  American  Health 
Board.  We  poor  pedlers  never  have  a  minute's  rest  when 
those  fellows  have  a  working  fit  on.  Down  they  pounce  on 
us,  like  eagles  ;  and  if  there  is  a  fish  in  the  neighborhood 
that  smells  as  if  it  had  outlived  its  usefulness,  bang !  they 
seize  up  all  the  fish  within  a  square  mile  around!  It  is 
the  same  with  fruit !  What  is  an  honest  fellow  to  do  in  the 
midst  of  such  persecutions  ?  And  that  reminds  me,  Esther, 
that  you  are  waiting  for  your  lunch.  Did  you  say  three 
cents '  worth  of  these  very  nice  berries,  my  little  dear  ?  " 

Esther,  the  brunette,  had  been  ferreting  among  the  ber 
ries  while  the  pedler  was  talking.  "  Why,  Ben  Zion,  this 
fruit  is  not  good,"  she  said.  "  It  has  been  kept  too  long. 
You  were  right  to  run  away  from  the  Health  Board." 

Ben  Zion  threw  down  the  horn  of  paper,  and,  raising  his 
hands,  shook  them  furiously  in  the  air.  Then  he  folded  his 
arms  across  his  breast,  stood  back,  and  gazed  at  Esther  with 
an  air  of  deep  disdain. 

"Not  good,  you  say,  not  good,  my  berries!  The  little 
witch  has  the  courage  to  say  that  to  me  —  to  me,  Ben  Zion  ! " 
Then  suddenly  taking  a  "  five-cent  paper,"  he  tilled  it  to  the 
brim  with  mouldy  fruit,  and,  pushing  it  into  Esther's 
hands,  said, — 

"  There's  double  measure  for  you  !  Give  me  the  three 
cents.  Now  run  home,  and  don't  try  to  cheapen  my  fruit 
any  more ! " 

This  master-stroke  of  impudence  had  precisely  the  effect 
contemplated  by  Ben  Zion.  It  brought  the  other  two  girls 
to  terms.  They  each  left  three  cents  in  Ben  Zion's  coffers, 


THE   PIG   MARKET  103 

and  carried  away  an  invitation  to  cholera.  But  they  were 
wise  enough  not  to  eat  the  fruit  when  they  saw  how  bad  it 
was.  The  commercial  instinct  was  strong  in  them,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  they  had  exchanged  the  berries  for  a  small 
loaf  of  the  wretched  bread  for  sale  on  every  corner  of  the 
Pig  Market. 

The  baker  dressed  up  the  berries  in  a  little  basket,  and 
shortly  afterwards  avenged  himself  on  the  tribe  of  sweaters 
by  selling  them  to  a  contractor  for  twenty-five  cents.  And 
thus  was  the  transaction  ended. 

"  The  girls  are  right ! "  said  Ben  Zion  when  left  alone. 
"  There's  too  much  richness  and  ripeness  in  this  cargo  ever 
to  pass  the  Health  Board.  So  here  goes  ! "  And  he  emptied 
the  mass  of  fruit  into  the  gutter,  after  which,  producing 
from  an  inner  pocket  a  worn  leather  cigarette  case,  he 
lighted  a  fragrant  roll  of  tobacco,  and,  lazily  propelling  the 
cart  before  him,  he  returned  into  the  market. 

The  tumult  was  now  greater  than  ever.  Choosing  a  spot 
directly  in  the  path  of  the  advancing  inspectors,  Ben  Zion 
tilted  up  his  cart,  stretched  himself  luxuriously  in  it,  and 
began  to  sing  in  a  high  falsetto  voice  one  of  the  comic 
folk-songs  which  he  had  learned  in  David's  theatre. 

"  We  shall  have  rare  sport  now,  as  the  bear  said  when  he 
hugged  the  hunter,"  remarked  Ben  Zion,  looking  up  with 
eager  interest  as  the  sound  of  a  fresh  scuffle  and  a  woman's 
piercing  cries  greeted  his  ears. 

The  scene  was  as  un-American  as  possible.  There  was 
nothing  but  a  fat  policeman  to  remind  one  that  he  was  in 
the  largest  city  of  the  United  States.  Even  the  narrow 
brick  houses,  belettered  as  they  were  with  signs  in  Hebrew 
characters,  had  a  strangely  foreign,  air.  But  more  foreign 
of  aspect  than  anything  else  was  an  old  man  in  a  long  caf 
tan  and  a  skull-cap  much  frayed  at  the  edges,  who  sat  on. 
the  curbstone  with  both  his  wrinkled  and  knotted  hands 


104  JOSKPII   ZALMONAH 

folded  over  his  knees,  and  with  an  air  of  saddened  resigna 
tion  upon  his  yellow  face,  on  either  side  of  which  hung  a 
small  curl  of  iron-gray  hair. 

"  Why,  how  goes  it,  Father  Manasseh  ?  "  said  Ben  Zion, 
as  his  gaze  fell  upon  this  pitiable  figure.  "  You  don't  look 
over  gay,  because  you  don't  feel  so,  as  the  fox  said  when 
they  were  skinning  him,  I  suppose.  Any  new  trouble  ?  " 

"  Ho  !  I  can't  complain,"  said  the  old  man.  "  The  soci 
ety  gave  me  three  dollars  a  week  when  I  was  ill,  and  I 
saved  something  out  of  that.  So  that  I  still  have  the  crust, 
you  know,  and  might  die  happy  if  I  could  only  get  Shiph- 
rah  back." 

He  sighed  deeply,  and  a  tear  rolled  down  his  withered 
cheek,  and  took  refuge  in  his  whitening  beard,  as  if  it 
knew  itself  to  be  a  luxury  of  which  the  old  man  would  be 
ashamed. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Shiphrah  !  "  said  Ben  Zion  reflectively.  "  She 
ran  away,  didn't  she  ?  Or  what  was  it  ?" 

"  Worse  than  that  —  worse  !  "  said  the  old  man,  unfolding 
his  hands  and  rising  painfully.  "But  don't  ask  me  the 
story  now.  It  makes  my  heart  bleed.  I  sit  here  every 
day,  hoping  that  I  may  see  her  again  before  T  die  ;  but  she 
seems  to  keep  clear  of  the  market.  I  shall  find  her  yet ; 
but  I  won't  ask  the  police;  no,  I  won't  ask  the  police  !" 

Suddenly  the  old  man  looked  up  at  the  pedler,  with  a 
gleam  of  hope  in  his  countenance.  "  Ah,  I  remember ! "  he 
said,  "  you  know  Joseph  —  young  Zalmonah  —  who  is  at  the 
head  of  the  Cloakmakers'  Union,  don't  you  ?  " 

Ben  Zion  arose,  and  assumed  an  air  of  quiet  dignity. 

"I  perceive,"  he  said,  "that  you  have  heard  how  Joseph 
and  I  led  the  cloakmakers  the  other  night.  Do  I  know 
him  ?  It  is  a  vain  question,  old  man.  We  are  hand  and 
glove.  Well,  and  if  I  do  know  him,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  then  I  would  ask  you  to  tell  me  the  way  to  his 


THE   PIG   MARKET  105 

house.  I  would  like  to  see  his  wife.  I  hear  she  has  just 
come  over.  She  knew  Shiphrah.  They  were  from  the 
same  town.  Perhaps  she  may  have  been  to  see  her.  Will 
you  not  tell  me  where  I  can  find  Joseph's  wife  ?  "  he  said  in 
querulous,  piping  tones,  and  laying  hold  of  the  frayed  and 
soiled  skirt  of  Ben  Zion's  coat. 

Ben  Zion  gave  the  lachrymose  patriarch  the  desired 
information,  and  looked  after  him  thoughtfully,  as  he 
hobbled  away.  "Well,  well,"  he  said,  "that  will  be  a 
search.  It  is  hard  work  looking  for  acorns  after  snow 
falls,  as  the  bear  with  the  frozen  paw  said." 

Some  hundreds  of  "  push-carts "  like  Ben  Zion's  were 
ranged  within  the  narrow  limits  of  Hester  Street,  and  were 
laden  with  every  conceivable  kind  of  merchandise.  Behind 
the  carts  stood  the  black  brigade  of  misery,  the  great  un 
washed  and  saucy  pedler's  company,  ready  to  starve,  fight, 
or  suffer  tortures  in  order  to  turn  the  nimble  penny. 

There  were  no  ragged  or  crippled  people  in  this  company 
of  hucksters,  and  yet  they  produced  upon  the  spectator  the 
impression  of  profound  poverty.  Old  women  in  disordered 
Avigs  and  tarnished  caps,  and  in  petticoats  which  seemed 
to  have  come  from  the  junk  man,  squeaked  out,  in  cracked 
voices,  the  value  of  their  wares. 

Cunning-faced  boys,  already  bent  and  faded  like  men  of 
fifty,  laughed  and  told  jokes,  as  they  dispensed  infinitesimal 
portions  of  rancid  fish  and  huge  pieces  of  half-baked  bread 
to  the  pale-faced  operatives  from  some  adjacent  garret. 

At  a  street  corner  a  shaky  and  greasy  flight  of  steps  led 
down  to  a  basement  in  which  an  old  Jew  in  a  green  coat 
sold  mouldy-looking  meat,  while  the  steps  were  occupied 
by  a  starving  book-worm,  who  had  a  meagre  array  of  Hebrew 
literature  displayed  on  a  dirty  shelf.  In  a  little  recess  half 
a  dozen  old  men,  leaning  on  their  carts,  furiously  discussed 
some  knotty  point,  making  the  air  vibrate  with  their  sonor- 


106  JOSEPH   ZALMONAIT 

cms  jargon.  Small  slips  of  girls,  barefoot  and  haggard, 
went  by  like  rays  of  moonshine,  seeming  as  noiseless  and 
unreal.  They  were  the  messengers  despatched  by  the  toil 
ing  employees  in  adjacent  sweating-shops  to  procure  them 
a  little  food  for  keeping  soul  and  body  in  company.  There 
were  bands  of  dirty-faced  men  who  recklessly  sold  green 
fruit,  all  the  time  shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices, 
'  Sweet !  Oh,  sweet !  "  And  here  and  there  was  a  pale,  proud 
face  with  genteel  lines  in  it  —  a  face  which  spoke  of  refined 
life  and  comfortable  position  in  the  past  —  bent  over  the 
merchandise  on  a  cart,  as  if  afraid  or  ashamed  to  look  the 
world  in  the  eye. 

Such  a  face  Ben  Zion  now  saw  close  to  him,  and  he 
studied  it  with  his  quick  eye,  making  up  his  mind  mean 
time  how  he  should  address  its  owner.  It  was  the  face 
of  a  scholar,  a  thinker,  Avho  was  reduced  to  the  extreme  of 
misery. 

The  man  halted  at  Ben  Zion's  side,  and,  spreading  a 
clean  white  handkerchief,  sat  down  and  leaned  his  hand 
some  head  against  the  little  cart's  side.  For  stock-in-trade 
he  had  only  a  few  yellow  bound  pamphlets  containing 
popular  ballads  written  in  jargon.  And  from  the  goodly 
number  of  them  it  was  pretty  evident  that  he  had  done  but 
small  business  that  morning. 

"Well,  comrade,"  said  Ben  Zion  good-naturedly,  "you 
haven't  sold  more  than  a  thousand  volumes  this  morning, 
I'll  be  bound.  People  don't  want  to  read  when  they  can't 
eat." 

"  I  have  sold  nothing,"  said  the  man  in  a  husky  voice, 
and  with  an  accent  of  profound  despair.  He  spoke  in  the 
jargon,  yet  there  was  refinement  in  his  speech.  ''Nothing. 
And  I  have  eaten  nothing  since  yesterday.  If  this  exist 
ence  is  to  go  on  day  after  day,  in  this  terrible  heat  and  in 
this  turmoil,  I  will  throw  myself  in  the  river  over  yonder, 


THE   PIG   MARKET  107 

rather  than  endure  it!  This  the  land  of  plenty,  indeed! 
Why,  I  am  starving !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ben  Zion,  getting  out  of  his  cart  briskly,  and 
beginning  to  examine  the  new-comer's  books,  "that's  all 
very  fine ;  but  drinking  too  much  river  water  will  not  cure 
you  of  starvation,  nor  give  you  back  the  fine  position  and 
the  money  which  the  Russians  robbed  you  of.  We  must 
work  our  brains,  man !  Work  our  brains !  Stand  up  here 
by  me  a  minute,  and  see  how  I  will  drag  you  out  of  the  bog 
into  which  you  have  floundered." 

The  man  obeyed  feebly,  doubtless  feeling  that  anything, 
no  matter  how  grotesque  or  humiliating  it  might  prove, 
would  be  better  than  his  own  lack  of  success. 

Ben  Zion  was  bent  on  killing  two  birds  with  one  stone. 
He  saw  the  inspectors  rapidly  approaching  (the  Health 
Board  cart  was  but  two  blocks  away  now),  and  he  wished 
to  appear  before  them  as  a  seller  of  something  besides 
fruit.  At  the  same  time  he  was  sincerely  anxious  to  rescue 
the  poor  man  —  a  scholarly  refugee  who  had  been  expelled 
from  Moscow  at  four  days'  notice,  losing  property  worth 
forty  thousand  roubles  —  from  his  peril  of  starvation. 

So  without  any  explanation  he  snatched  two  or  three 
dozen  of  the  little  volumes  from  the  other  cart,  and  with 
them  completely  covered  the  floor  of  his  own.  Then  he  set 
up  a  shrill  yell,  "  Books  !  books  !  cheaper  than  dirt !  Wiser 
than  Solomon,  more  venerable  than  Moses,  because  of  the 
wisdom  that  is  in  'em  !  Books  — books !  at  —  (How  much 
do  you  sell  'em  for  ?  ) 

"  Ten  cents." 

"  At  ten  cents  apiece  —  here  they  are  —  the  wonderful 
songs  and  ballads  of  Mordecai,  the  poet  of  the  people  ! 
Just  the  things  to  sing  now,  my  friends,  now  that  the  day 
of  reckoning  with  the  sweaters  is  at  hand  !  Ten  cents 
apiece  !  Who'll  buy  ?  " 


108  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

A  silver  coin  fell  into  Ben  Zion's  ready  palm.  One  of 
the  little  books  vanished  into  the  capacious  pocket  of  a 
greasy-looking  contractor,  who  was  anxious  to  see  what  the 
"  poet  of  the  people  "  had  said  of  his  class.  Then  came  a 
rabbi  in  a  huge  silk  hat  and  a  stained  linen  coat,  who  also 
purchased.  He  was  followed  by  an  asthmatic  tailor,  and 
next  by  a  landlord. 

"  Take  these  coins  and  run  and  get  your  breakfast,"  said 
Ben  Zion,  thrusting  the  money  into  his  pale  companion's 
hand.  "  If  you  want  to  sell,  you  must  shout !  If  you  keep 
still  in  your  corner,  you  will  starve  !  Run  !  Trust  me  to 
make  money  while  you  are  gone.  I  will  look  after  your 
cart." 

The  man  obeyed ;  and  so  it  happened  that  when  the  in 
spectors  came  up  with  Ben  Zion,  whom  they  had  plainly 
discerned  running  away  a  few  minutes  before,  he  thrust  a 
book  under  their  noses,  and  urged  them  to  buy. 

"  Surely  this  is  the  man,"  said  one  of  the  inspectors. 
"  He  is  one  of  the  worst  sinners  in  the  business.  He 
would  peddle  decayed  vegetables  by  the  ton,  if  we  came 
around  less  often." 

"  Shall  I  run  him  in  ?  "  said  a  policeman. 

Ben  Zion  flourished  one  of  the  books  under  the  officer's 
nose.  "  Have  a  book  ?  "  he  said.  "  Only  ten  cents." 

"Yes,  he's  peddling  books  now,"  said  the  inspector; 
"but  there  are  the  stains  of  the  fruit  on  the  sides  of  his 
barrow.  This  fellow  will  poison  the  city  some  day.  Can't 
you  talk  United  States  ?  "  he  said  angrily  to  Ben  Zion. 

The  pedler  only  flourished  his  books  more  lustily,  and 
proclaimed  its  virtues  more  loudly  in  his  copious  jargon 
vocabulary;  but,  finally,  placing  the  book  again  close  to 
the  officer's  face,  he  said  dryly,  — 

"Zehn  cents.     You  better  buy  von." 

"  I'll  pound  your  red  head  off,  if  you  say  that  again," 


THE  PIG   MARKET 

cried  the  exasperated  officer ;  and  the  inspection  procession 
rolled  along.  Before  it  swept  a  wave  of  lamentation  from 
the  old  women,  who  saw  their  stock-in-trade  seized  and 
thrown  into  the  hated  wagon.  An  aged  hag,  sorting  but 
tons  in  a  heap  on  a  push-cart,  assailed  one  of  the  officers 
tooth  and  nail,  and  was  carried  off  screaming,  her  whole 
family  following  her  to  rescue  her  if  possible  from  the 
grip  of  the  law. 

"  That  was  a  narrow  escape  i  "  said  Ben  Zion.  "  I  think 
I  will  stick  to  the  side  streets  hereafter.  Unless  I  sell 
pants  again  !  People  must  have  pants,  even  when  they 
can't  get  bread." 

And  he  was  lost  in  thought  on  this  important  matter 
when  the  grateful  man  returned  to  thank  him  for  interven 
ing  to  preserve  him  from  the  pangs  of  hunger. 

"Let  me  sell  you  a  few  more  books,"  said  Ben  Zion. 
And  he  addressed  himself  so  deftly  to  his  task,  that  in  half 
an  hour  the  refugee  was  insured  against  want  for  several 
days.  He  at  first  refused  to  accept  any  commission  for  his 
labors ;  but  when  pressed  he  accepted  a  quarter.  "  It'll  come 
handy  to  buy  shoe-laces  with,"  he  thought.  "  But  ought  I 
to  sell  shoe-laces  and  suspenders  now  that  I  am  a  leader  of 
revolutions  ?  " 

While  meditating  on  this  momentous  problem,  Ben  Zion 
found  the  three  girls  to  whom  he  had  sold  the  berries 
standing  near  him  again. 

It  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  they  might  have  heard 
something  about  the, lost  Shiphrah.  He  began  questioning 
them,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  in  possession  of  the 
information  which  old  Manasseh  had  so  long  sought  in 
vain. 


110  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  X 

WITH  THE  POET  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

"COME,  Joseph,"  said  Miryara,  with  a  faint  trace  of  pet 
ulance  in  her  sweet  voice,  "  if  you  drag  along  behind  that 
way  we  shall  be  too  late.  When  Mordecai  has  a  singing 
tit  upon  him,  he  wouldn't  wait  for  King  Solomon." 

"  King  Solomon  has  been  dead  for  thousands  of  years," 
answered  Joseph  wearily,  as  he  quickened  his  pace.  "  You 
live  so  much  among  those  old  historical  personages  in  your 
theatrical  world,  that  you  get  to  think  they  are  real." 

"Ah!  Joseph,  Joseph!"  said  the  girl-woman,  turning 
her  head  and  looking  archly  at  him,  "  I  know  you  well 
enough  to  feel  sure  that  when  you  try  the  comical  vein, 
you  are  worried  about  something.  And  why  shouldn't  you 
be  worried,  after  all  ?  "  she  mused  with  a  sudden  change  of 
manner. 

"  There's  nothing  very  humorous  in  my  situation,"  sighed 
Joseph.  "  Thirty  to  forty  thousand  starving  people  ready 
to  break  into  riot,  if  I  can't  invent  some  pretence  for 
keeping  them  still !  What  would  you  do  in  my  place, 
Miry  am  ?" 

The  pair  stopped  in  the  shadow  of  a  tall  tenement 
house,  as  if  the  weight  of  Joseph's  responsibility  were 
pressing  upon  them  both. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Miryam  simply,  raising  her  beauti 
ful  eyes,  and  looking  at  Joseph  with  an  expression  of  per- 


WITH  THE  POET  OF  THE  PEOPLE       111 

feet  trustfulness.  "  But  I  always  feel  sure  that  you  will 
succeed  —  that  you  will  do  the  right  thing.  It  is  as  if  — 
as  if  something  were  leading  you  on." 

Joseph  winced.  There  were  times  when  he  felt  the  un 
seen  guidance,  and  when  he  would  gladly  have  acknowl 
edged  it.  But  for  the  moment  he  seemed  to  have  lost  the 
touch  of  the  guiding  hand. 

Since  his  stormy  interview  with  Freier  he  had  felt  half 
stunned  and  helpless.  The  slave-drivers  had  shown  a  firm 
front  against  the  revolt  of  the  slaves.  It  was  even  evident 
that  they  coveted  open  riot,  that  they  might  have  an  excuse 
for  harsher  measures. 

Surrounded  by  snares  and  pitfalls,  friendless  in  a  foreign 
land,  with  the  laws  and  the  very  Constitution  of  which  he 
was  unfamiliar,  and  with  a  great  army  of  desperate  men 
and  women  urging  him  to  lead  it  on  to  reckless  and  lawless 
deeds,  unless  he  could  find  bread  and  work  for  it,  he  be 
gan  to  feel  appalled  at  the  immensity  of  his  task. 

His  senses  swam  when  he  tried  to  think  steadily  upon 
the  dangers  and  trials  close  at  hand. 

They  were  standing  in  Henry  Street,  that  comfortable 
old  region  of  quaint  Dutch-looking  houses  which  was  once 
a  fashionable  promenade  for  New  Yorkers,  in  those  far 
away  days  when  a  cow-pound  stood  on  the  site  of  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Hotel,  and  when  a  journey  to  Harlem  was  an  event. 
Henry  Street  has  still  kept  much  of  its  ancient  triinness 
and  neatness,  although  tall  tenement  houses  have  thrust 
their  ugly  and  angular  forms  in  among  the  little  mansions 
and  have  brought  with  them  troops  of  dark-visaged  folk, 
who  seem  as  alien  to  America  as  if  they  had  never  heard 
of  it. 

"  I  wish  I  could  help  you,  Joseph,"  said  Miry  am  ;  "  I  do 
with  all  my  heart !  I  —  I  never  saw  you  look  as  if  you 
needed  help  before." 


112  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

The  mists  arose,  quite  unbidden,  in  Joseph's  eyes.  His 
helplessness  was,  then,  apparent  even  to  this  unworldly 
little  waif  ?  He  must  make  an  effort,  aud  he  did,  taking 
Miryam's  hands,  and  saying  kindly  — 

"  It  will  all  come  out  right.     Let  us  go  on." 

A  few  steps  more  brought  them  to  the  entrance  of  a  gray 
brick  tenement  house,  which  towered  dizzily  into  air,  as  if 
it  were  not  at  all  certain  of  its  footing,  and  might  at  any 
time  topple  over.  Miryam  made  her  way  among  the  sprawl 
ing  groups  of  olive-faced  babies,  tended  by  little  damsels 
with  very  womanly  heads  of  hair,  and  with  eyes  which 
sparkled  with  curiosity  and  good-humor. 

"This  is  it.  Come  up,"  said  the  girl,  pointing  to  the 
annunciator,  on  which  a  small  tablet  bore  the  name  in  Ger 
manic  script :  — 

MORDECAI   MENZER 

A  little  pang  of  envy  shot  through  Joseph's  breast,  but 
was  gone  in  an  instant.  He  wondered  if  lie  could  ever 
attain  to  the  dignity  of  a  plate  with  his  name  upon  it,  as 
Mordecai,  "  the  poet  of  the  people,"  had  done.  At  present, 
in  his  shabby  lodgings  in  a  frowzy  quarter,  he  was  far 
enough  from  any  such  style. 

They  climbed  flight  after  flight  of  poorly  lighted  stairs 
hearing  the  click  of  sewing-machines  and  the  droning 
voices  of  actors  and  actresses  rehearsing  their  roles  in  jar 
gon,  and  a  woman  singing  shrilly  to  the  music  of  a  cracked 
piano. 

Through  an  open  door  they  had  a  glimpse  of  a  veritable 
"  sweater's  hell,"  where  girls  were  toiling  at  the  needle 
in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  red-hot  stove,  on  which  the 
pressing  irons  were  heating. 

The  blast  of  fetid  air  which  came  from  the  room  as  a 


WITH  THE  POET  OF   THE  PEOPLE  113 

pallid  employee  hastened  to  shut  the  door,  was  what  one 
might  imagine  a  puff  from  the  cavernous  mouth  of  hell 
to  be. 

On  the  fourth  floor  Mordeeai  Menzer's  name  again  con 
fronted  them  011  a  soiled  and  splintered  door.  Miryam 
rang,  and  a  moment  later  she  and  her  companion  were 
standing  in  the  presence  of  "  the  poet  of  the  people." 

He  was  a  small  man,  on  the  borders  of  fifty,  with  a  thin, 
sharp  face,  and  a  bushy  beard  which  he  had  evidently  dyed 
to  conceal  the  snows  of  time  upon  it.  He  had  a  curious 
way  of  gazing  out  from  under  his  brows  which  at  first  was 
rather  startling  ;  but  one  soon  discovered  that  it  was  only 
a  manner.  Mordeeai  Meuzer  was  a  man  of  intense  nature, 
and  he  showed  it  even  iu  his  ordinary  speeches  and  ges 
tures. 

His  greeting  of  Joseph  was  so  deferential  that  it  con 
fused  the  young  leader,  who  was  prepared  to  compliment 
the  poet  on  his  wonderful  power  over  the  hearts  of  the 
Jewish  people.  But  Mordeeai  at  first  would  hear  little 
about  himself;  his  talk  was  of  Joseph  and  his  plans,  — the 
lock-out,  the  labor  revolution  in  progress. 

The  poet's  domicile  consisted  of  three  diminutive  rooms 
and  a  rather  dark  kitchen.  In  the  tiny  dining-room  his  ro 
tund  little  wife  and  two  modest  and  pretty  daughters  were 
busy  with  household  cares.  Here  the  poet  had  received 
his  visitors.  He  now  conducted  them  into  the  next  room, 
a  Liliputian  salon  in  which  some  old  faded  tapestry-backed 
chairs  looked  as  if  they  felt  crowded  and  out  of  place.  In 
one  of  these  chairs  sat  a  little  nervous  man  with  a  dark 
face,  holding  a  violin  in  his  lap.  And  on  a  low  stool 
behind  one  of  the  chairs,  intently  looking  out  of  the  win 
dow,  was  the  beautiful  Bathsheba. 

Joseph's  heart  gave  a  curious  throb  as  he  saw  her,  and 
he  could  not  refrain  from  gazing  at  her,  until  she  slowly 


114  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

turned  her  queenly  head,  and  seemed  to  take  possession  of 
him  with  her  eyes.  He  looked  confused;  and  although 
Miryam  rushed  to  Bathsheba,  and  engaged  in  a  lively  conver 
sation  with  her,  he  thought  of  nothing  but  Bathsheba  and 
her  eyes,  while  the  poet  Mordecai  finally  intoned  his  his 
tory,  bestowing  various  picturesque  maledictions  upon  the 
government  which  had  expelled  him  from  his  native  Russia, 
and  had  compelled  him  to  begin  his  career  anew  in  a  fur- 
away  land. 

Mordecai  had  much  to  tell,  and  in  an  ordinary  frame  of 
mind  it  all  would  have  been  intensely  interesting  to  Joseph. 
The  poet  told  how,  when  a  child  at  the  carpenter's  bench  in 
his  father's  shop,  he  had  begun  to  compose  ballads  telling 
the  story  of  his  people's  joys  and  sorrows.  As  he  grew  up 
he  found  that  his  singing  was  nearly  all  sorrowful,  and  he 
learned  that  his  people  were  oppressed  and  down-trodden. 

'Then  came  the  magic  and  never-to-be-forgotten  moment 
when  the  spirit  of  revolt  and  the  spirit  of  poesy  moved  within 
him,  and  in  a  few  tremendous  verses,  into  which  he  had  con 
densed  the  anguish  of  a  whole  race,  he  had  struck  out  at 
white  heat  the  ballads  which  had  won  for  him  the  name 
of  the  "  Poet  of  the  people." 

As  a  youth,  and  finally  as  a  man,  he  had  wandered  up 
and  down  the  Russian  land,  wherever  those  of  his  race 
were  to  be  found,  and  he  had  sung  to  them  the  songs  which 
gave  them  life  and  hope,  and  also  the  spirit  of  vengeance. 

He  created  the  cradle-songs  to  which  Jewish  mothers 
have  for  more  than  thirty  years  rocked  their  babes  to 
sleep,  and  in  each  and  all  of  these  songs  there  is  a  plaint  or 
a  wail. 

In  the  villages  and  at  the  country  fairs  the  women  and 
children  flocked  to  hear  him  sing  his  own  songs;  and,  when 
the  Russian  officials  found  that  they  often  went  away  weep 
ing,  they  began  to  spy  upon  Mordecai.  Sometimes  they 


WITH  THE  POET  OF  THE  PEOPLE       115 

sent  stenographers  to  take  down  his  words ;  at  another 
time  they  gave  him  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  leave 
the  locality.  And  at  last  they  became  so  threatening  that 
Mordecai,  who  supported  his  family  by  singing  in  public 
and  by  selling  reprints  of  his  own  songs,  felt  constrained 
to  give  up  his  little  home  and  to  migrate  over  seas  to  "  the 
golden  land  "  which  he  had  already  celebrated  in  his  verse 
—  the  golden  sunset  land  of  free  and  untrammelled 
America. 

Arriving  here  in  the  thick  of  the  labor  troubles,  and  find 
ing  his  hapless  countrymen  and  women  starving  by  regi 
ments,  victimized  in  brigades,  slave-driven  in  armies,  his 
sensitive  nature  had  received  a  severe  shock. 

He  no  longer  believed  in  "the  golden  land,"  and  had 
written,  since  his  arrival,  a  bitterly  satirical  ballad  tinged 
with  socialism,  in  which  he  ridiculed  the  United  States  as 
a  land  of  promise,  but  not  one  of  performance. 

Without  being  himself  what  the  masses  call  a  Socialist, 
he  had  leanings  in  that  direction,  and  was  easily  persuaded 
to  enter  into  friendly  relations  with  Baumeister,  and  with 
others  who  professed  to  believe  in  what  they  called  "  the  pol 
icy  of  force." 

And  it  so  happened  that  Mordecai,  although  he  had  been 
but  a  few  months  in  America,  had  sung  at  several  socialis 
tic  gatherings,  and  had  composed  one  or  two  rhymed 
invectives  against  "  capitalistic  legislatures  "  and  other  in 
stitutions  of  the  present  order  of  society,  which  quite 
delighted  Baumeister  and  his  colleagues. 

Therefore,  when  he  was  urged  to  bring  his  influence  to 
bear  upon  Joseph,  he  resolved  to  do  it  as  a  kind  of  duty, 
and  was  readily  persuaded  by  Baumeister  to  give  the 
young  leader  a  rendezvous  in  his  humble  abode. 

Baumeister,  meantime,  took  excellent  care  not  to  appear 
in  the  matter.  He  was  acting  by  deputy,  and,  in  this  case, 


116  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

he  had  chosen  with  great  adroitness,  and  had  decided  con 
fidence  in  the  result. 

For  Bathsheba  was  his  deputy. 

Baumeister  was  a  man  of  talent,  of  comprehensive  vision, 
and  great  audacity.  Bathsheba  was  a  new  convert,  and 
converts  are  always  more  zealous  than  those  born  in  the 
faith. 

If  she  had  remained  in  her  native  province  of  Russia, 
and  had  never  been  moved  from  the  calm  conventionality 
of  middle-class  life,  she  would  have  been  the  most  exem 
plary  of  matrons,  the  coldest  and  most  statuesque  of  beau 
ties.  It  is  doubtful  if  she  would  even  have  descended  to 
the  commonplace  level  of  a  flirtation  with  a  provincial 
landowner,  or  a  passing  officer  in  some  crack  regiment. 

But  destiny  had  thrust  her  forth  upon  the  world  by  fill 
ing  her  head  with  a  caprice  for  this  dark-faced  tiddler, 
who  had  won  her  heart  by  playing  gypsy  melodies  at  a 
festival  in  her  father's  house  one  summer  moonlight  night. 
She  had  run  away  to  marry  him,  leaving  home  and  fortune 
behind  her ;  and  when  she  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  few 
-thousand  roubles  which  her  mother  had  sent  her,  out  of 
sheer  pity  for  the  daughter  whose  erratic  conduct  she  con 
demned,  she  saw  that  there  was  no  new  fortune  to  replace 
the  old  one. 

She  had  married  a  man  who,  in  the  cold  sunlight  of 
every-day  life,  turned  out  to  be  nothing  but  an  ordinary 
musician.  In  America  he  found  crushing  competition  await 
ing  him  in  the  very  specialties  in  which  he  had  hoped  to 
succeed. 

If  this  had  not  soured  his  happy-go-lucky  temper,  not  so 
much  could  be  said  of  Bathsheba.  With  the  loss  of  her 
illusions  had  come  an  immense  and  overpowering  disgust, 
which  gradually  transformed  itself  into  a  fixed  hatred  for 
Society  and  all  its  institutions. 


WITH   THE   POET   OF   THE  PEOPLE  117 

The  transfer  of  her  existence  from  Russia  to  America, 
the  keen  shock  of  disappointment  experienced  on  finding 
that  the  conditions  of  life,  especially  for  the  refugees,  —  vic 
tims  of  the  labor  glut  which  they  themselves  created,  —  were 
so  hard  and  forbidding,  and  the  contrast  —  so  appalling  in 
New  York  —  between  the  extreme  of  want  and  abject  mis 
ery  and  the  topmost  height  of  luxury  and  abounding  pros 
perity,  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  the  slender  framework 
of  piety  and  tradition  which  at  home  would  have  sufficed  to 
keep  her  from  Socialism. 

A  few  words  from  Baumeister  at  the  opportune  moment, 
and  Bathsheba  was  an  active  worker  in  the  cause  of  the 
"  force  party,"  which  she  and  her  companions  called 
"Socialistic  "when  they  wished  to  be  mild,  and  which 
they  glorified  by  its  real  and  more  repulsive  name  when 
they  were  determined  to  speak  out.  The  exalted,  almost 
frenzied  fervor  of  Bathsheba's  work  in  "the  cause"  had 
led  Baumeister  to  believe  that  he  could  trust  her  to  do  any 
thing.  Himself  firmly  convinced  that  a  "campaign  of 
force  "  was  near  at  hand,  he  rejoiced  at  having  within  call 
a  woman  who  would  recoil  at  nothing,  who  would  even  under 
take  the  mission  of  the  assassin  should  he  confide  it  to  her. 

She  found  in  the  keen  intellectual  delights  of  this  con 
spiracy,  hopeless  and  foolish  as  its  aims  and  undertakings 
in  reality  were,  a  charming  relief  from  the  deadly  monotony 
of  life  in  a  dreary  street  in  an  obscure  quarter,  surrounded 
by  her  inferiors,  and  sometimes  in  doubt  where  the  next 
day's  food  was  to  come  from. 

She  had  early  acquired  an  ascendency  over  her  husband  ; 
and  she  made  liberal  use  of  it,  converting  him  to  the  new 
doctrine,  and  persuading  him  that  by  means  of  it  they  might 
both  yet  attain  to  consideration  and  worldly  success.  Her 
beauty  and  strength  of  mind  argued  more  for  her  doctrine 
than  her  rather  wild  words  could  have  done ;  and  the  hus- 


118  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

baud  seemed,  under  Bathsheba's  direction,  as  clay  in  the 
hands  of  the  potter. 

'  It  was  Bathsheba  whom  Bauineister  had  chosen  as  the 
instrument  for  the  conversion  of  Joseph  to  his  doctrine. 
When  the  leader  of  revolt  against  society  in  the  metropolis 
had  first  had  Joseph  pointed  out  to  him  as  one  who  worked 
steadily  against  the  inroads  of  Socialism  in  the  ranks  of  the 
oppressed  people,  he  had  fancied  that  he  could  sweep  him 
out  of  the  way  by  some  adroit  manoeuvre. 

But  when  he  discovered  that  Joseph  was  his  equal  in 
sagacity  and  prudence,  and  his  superior  as  a  popular  leader, 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  Bathsheba  alone  could  operate 
the  conversion.  He  proposed  to  her  the  mission  of  bringing 
the  young  leader  over  to  the  "  school  of  force,"  and  after 
some  hesitation  she  consented. 

At  that  time  she  had  never  seen  Joseph,  and  supposed 
him  to  be  some  greasy  cloakmaker,  the  very  odor  of  whose 
garments  would  offend  her  nostrils.  When  she  learned  that 
he  was  a  man  of  rare  power,  and  that  he  impressed  all  who 
saw  him  with  the  idea  that  he  had  a  mission,  she  found 
means  frequently  to  see  him  without  being  herself  observed. 
This  careful  espionage  had  begun  weeks  before  the  lock 
out  was  started.  At  first  she  found  it  a  task,  then,  sud 
denly,  it  became  a  pleasure,  and  she  discovered  that  the 
pale  face  of  Joseph,  with  its  patient  weariness,  had  left  its 
impress  on  her  heart. 

Thenceforward  she  watched  him  with  keen  and  unflagging 
interest.  She  had  not  seemed  to  notice  the  young  leader 
that  evening  when  with  David  he  had  seen  her  in  the  lodge- 
room  in  Grand  Street.  But  her  eyes  had  followed  his  every 
movement,  and  it  was  with  a  rapturous  joy  which  thrilled 
her  that  she  noticed  the  profound  impression  made  upon 
him  by  her  beauty. 

The  next  day  she  found  herself  possessed  of  a  strange, 


WITH   THE   POET   OF   THE   PEOPLE  119 

almost  uncontrollable  desire  to  see  Joseph  at  once.  If  she 
had  been  tardy  before  in  approaching  her  mission,  she  now 
sped  to  it  with  a  willing  foot. 

She  had  gone  to  the  theatre  because  she  had  felt  the  mad 
wish  to  see  him  that  very  night.  Amazed  at  this  new  man 
ifestation  in  her  nature,  which  she  had  supposed  to  be  no 
longer  susceptible  to  romance,  she  began  to  analyze  her 
emotions. 

At  the  end  of  a  few  hours  she  had  made  up  her  mind 
that  her  position  was  singular  and  embarrassing,  even  for 
a  disciple  of  Baumeister,  and  a  revolutionist  who  believed 
but  little  in  the  sacredness  of  the  marriage-tie,  or  any  other 
of  the  social  conventions. 

Had  she  loved  Joseph  at  first  sight  ?  Certainly  she  had 
felt  the  dawning  of  a  passionate  devotion  to  the  leader  whom 
she  had  sworn  to  seduce  from  his  allegiance  to  order. 

Bathsheba  knew  that  she  was  well  watched,  and  she  con 
cealed  her  new  secret  with  all  the  skill  of  an  accomplished 
conspirator.  She  wished  to  see  Joseph  face  to  face  again, 
to  hear  him  talk,  to  touch  his  hand,  before  she  decided  on 
her  future  course. 

She  was  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary  courage  and 
resources.  She  realized  fully  what  this  new  love,  if  indeed 
it  were  love,  was  likely  to  mean  for  her  —  all  the  possibili 
ties  of  tragedy,  humiliation,  suffering,  contained  in  it ;  and 
she  felt  that  she  must  bring  the  fate  closer  to  her,  where 
she  could  inspect  it  narrowly,  without  delay. 

So  she  had  profited  by  her  acquaintance  with  David 
and  Miryam,  and  with  Mordecai,  the  people's  poet,  to 
lead  Joseph  to  her  side.  After  she  had  heard  his  voice, 
had  looked  into  his  eyes,  she  would  decide  —  she  would 
decide. 

But  as  she  looked  languidly  out  at  the  window,  while 
Joseph  listened  to  Mordecai's  monologue,  she  betrayed  by 


120  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

no  sign  the  anxiety  and  commotion  which  reigned  within 
her  breast. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  she  feared  to  hear  Joseph  speak, 
lest  something  which  he  might  say  should  force  her  to  over 
turn  the  idol  which  she  had  erected  in  the  innermost  sanc 
tuary  of  her  heart. 

Miryam  rattled  on  about  the  expedition  of  the  night  be 
fore,  unconsciously  throwing  into  it,  with  her  theatrical 
training,  a  certain  dramatic  force,  especially  when  she  spoke 
of  Joseph.  To  her  surprise  Bathsheba  seemed  to  know- 
many  of  the  details,  but  scrutinized  her  with  wild,  widely 
opened,  almost  tearful  eyes  every  time  she  alluded  to 
Joseph's  part  in  the  night-drama.  As  yet  it  did  not  enter 
Miryam's  innocent  heart  that  Bathsheba  might  dare  to  love 
him,  nor  did  she  dream  that  the  beautiful  woman  in  whose 
lap  she  laid  her  head  was  a  conspirator  commissioned  to 
convert  or  ruin  Joseph. 

Suddenly  the  girl  caught  her  breath,  and  said,  "Oh,  I 
am  so  afraid  that  something  will  happen  to  Joseph!  Do 
remember  your  promise  to  warn  him  !  " 

A  wave  of  ashy  pallor  swept  into  Bathsheba's  face  and 
out  again  in  an  instant.  "You  may  be  sure  that  I  shall 
do  my  very  best,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  had  a  curious 
tremor  in  it. 

At  this  juncture  Mordecai's  round  little  wife  appeared 
in  the  doorway  with  one  of  her  husband's  presentation  sil 
ver  salvers  laden  with  peaches,  grapes,  and  a  dark-looking 
wine  which  they  had  brought  over  seas  with  them. 

"  May  I  join  the  worthy  company  ? "  she  said  in  her 
quaint  jargon ;  and  Joseph  was  glad  to  get  free  from  Mor 
decai's  monologue,  and  to  see  a  little  movement  in  the  room. 

The  company  collected  about  the  wine.  The  dark-faced 
fiddler  smiled  pleasantly  at  Joseph,  smacked  his  lips,  and 
said, — 


WITH  THE  POET  OF  THE  PEOPLE       121 

"Yon  don't  get  that  every  day,  hey — you  other  cloak- 
makers  —  do  you  ?  " 

"  Ho  ! "  said  Joseph,  "  wine  to  drink  !  That  would  be 
luxury  indeed !  Why,  we  are  happy  when  we  can  get  water 
enough.  I  know  a  sweater  who  allowed  the  company  to 
cut  off  the  water  in  his  place.  He  declared  that  he  wasn't 
going  to  be  taxed  to  furnish  water  for  a  crowd  of  thirsty 
workers !  '  Let  each  man  bring  his  own  drinking-water,' 
he  said.  'And  if  he  can't  do  that,  let  him  choke.'  " 

"Good  subject  for  a  little  ballad,"  said  the  dark-faced 
fiddler  to  the  poet. 

"  There  are  so  many  that  father  doesn't  know  which  to 
chose  first,  does  one,  father  ?"  said  the  small  wife,  holding 
her  wineglass  with  both  hands,  and  looking  up  at  her  hus 
band  with  a  proud  and  pleased  expression. 

And  now  Joseph  became  conscious  that  Bathsheba  was 
near  him,  and  the  little  fiddler  was  introducing  him  in  a  few 
well-chosen  words,  and  with  an  air  which  showed  that  he 
was  very  proud  of  her. 

"  It  was  so  kind  of  you  to  spare  a  few  moments  from 
your  poor  people  ! "  said  a  melodious  voice,  and  Joseph 
looked  up  in  surprise. 

Could  it  be  the  voice  of  Bathsheba,  the  "  Socialist,"  which 
had  spoken  thus  considerately  of  his  mission  ?  He  was  pre 
pared  to  hear  her  sneer  at  his  down-trodden  cloakmakers, 
but  not  to  sympathize  with  them. 

He  gazed  at  Bathsheba,  as  if  waiting  for  her  to  explain 
herself.  The  sincerity  in  his  questioning  eyes  both  pleased 
and  startled  Bathsheba.  She  lowered  her  gaze. 

" So  good  of  you,"  she  continued,  "to  give  us  a  chance  of 
seeing  you.  Mordecai  has  been  inspired  by  what  he  has 
heard  —  and  seen  —  of  your  work,  to  write  a  little  song  about 
the  sweaters.  He  was  good  enough  to  sing  it  to  me  —  and 
I  thought  —  I  thought,"  here  she  raised  her  eyes  and  flashed 


122  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

their  light  upon  Joseph's  face  for  a  moment,  then  swiftly 
lowered  them  again,  "  that  you  ought  to  hear  it.  Certainly 
it  will  be  an  engine  to  help  you  in  your  work." 

Joseph  was  surprised  that  he  did  not  readily  find  words 
to  thank  Bathsheba  for  what  seemed  sucli  purely  disin 
terested  kindness.  He  was  usually  ready  enough  with  his 
tongue,  but  now  he  dreaded  to  open  his  lips,  lest  he  should 
say  something  foolish. 

He  felt  deliciously  flattered  by  Bathsheba's  interest  in 
him.  It  seemed  to  make  his  work  larger,  finer  in  his  own 
estimation.  At  last  he  realized  that  he  must  speak,  so  he 
stammered,  — 

"  I  have  heard  it  said  that  songs  often  make  revolutions. 
Why,  then,  shouldn't  they  aid  strikes  ?  And  Heaven  knows 
that  we  have  bitter  need  of  aid !  I  am  sure  that  if  the  poor 
cloakmakers  now  starving  in  Hester  Street  could  see  the 
impression  their  misery  has  made  on  you,  they  would  be 
more  courageous  than  ever." 

But  while  he  was  speaking  he  felt  like  crying  out  to 
Bathsheba,  "  Woman !  Woman !  these  are  not  the  words  I 
want  to  say  to  you.  I  want  to  ask  you  why  your  eyes 
burn  so  strangely  into  my  being ;  why  the  touch  of  your 
hand  on  mine  thrills  me  with  a  strange  delight ;  why  the 
little  room  seems  full  of  a  glory  which  emanates  from 
you ! " 

Did  his  eyes  ask  these  questions  ?  He  did  not  mean 
that  they  should  do  so.  He  meant  to  conceal  the  delirious 
disturbance  which  Bathsheba  had  wrought  in  his  soul,  and 
the  purport  of  which  he  but  vaguely  understood. 

They  talked  for  some  minutes,  while  Miry  am  aided  the 
housewife  and  her  daughters  in  cleaning  the  room,  so  that 
Mordecai  might  have  a  little  stage  for  action. 

"  When  he  is  excited  in  singing,"  said  the  small  wife, 
"  he  walks  up  and  down  ;  and  if  he  should  happen  to  knock 


WITH   THE   POET   OF   THE   PEOPLE  123 

his  shin  against  a  chair,  it  would  spoil  the  whole  effect  of 
his  song." 

"  Not  because  he  has  a  bad  temper,  I  hope,  Frau  Men- 
zer,"  said  a  cheerful  voice  at  the  door,  "  because  you  know 
the  proverb, '  The  sins  of  the  bad-tempered  are  greater  than 
his  merits.'  " 

"  Here  is  Reb  David ! "  cried  Miryam,  "  with  his  mouth 
full  of  wisdom,  as  usual.  May  he  come  in  ?  " 

"  He  must,"  said  the  little  wife  with  effusive  hospitality. 
"  And  as  proverbs  are  dry  eating,  and  leave  a  bitter  taste 
in  the  mouth,  he  shall  have  a  glass  of  wine." 

David  accepted  the  proffered  glass,  and  went  with  it  in 
his  hand  to  join  Bathsheba  and  Joseph,  who  were  conver 
sing  in  low  tones. 

"Now,"  said  Mordecai,  springing  into  the  middle  of 
the  floor  and  addressing  the  dark-faced  fiddler,  "  get  your 
violin.  I  feel  the  inspiration  bubbling  up  !  Come !  I  will 
sing  you  the  song  which  I  have  put  into  the  mouths  of  the 
victims  of  the  sweaters." 

The  fiddler  gently  refused  the  written  music  which  the 
little  wife  handed  to  him.  "  I  know  the  song  by  heart," 
he  said,  "and  so  will  every  cloakmaker  and  operator  in 
New  York  before  we  have  done  with  them." 

Bathsheba  and  Joseph  sat  down,  and  listened. 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE    OBJECT-LESSON 

A  HUSH  fell  on  the  little  company.  The  sacramental 
touch  of  art  was  upon  it.  Mordecai  began  to  sing. 

He  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  holding  his  verses, 
written  in  fine  Hebrew  script  upon  note-paper,  in  one  hand, 
and  nervously  beating  the  air  with  the  other,  as  if  he  were 
trying  to  catch  flying  words  and  phrases,  and  fit  them  to 
his  song.  Thus  he  seemed  for  a  few  moments  irresolute, 
and  a  trifle  ridiculous. 

But  most  of  his  auditors  knew  that  Mordecai  was  await 
ing  the  exact  moment  when  the  inspiration  would  reach  its 
height,  and  that,  when  it  came,  he  would  startle  them  with 
the  wild  beauty  and  eloquence  of  his  rhymed  composition. 

Joseph  studied  him  with  all  his  might.  He  could  hear, 
close  beside  him,  the  rustling  of  Bathsheba's  dress,  and  her 
short,  sharp  breathing,  as  if  she  were  painfully  excited. 

Suddenly  the  dark-faced  fiddler  struck  a  wailing  chord 
on  his  violin,  and  instantly  ceased  to  play.  It  was  like 
the  cry  of  a  woman  in  distress  and  despair  —  a  heart-broken 
wail  which  made  the  flesh  creep. 

Then  came  Mordecai's  voice,  and  Joseph  felt  his  heart 
hot  within  him,  as,  in  a  stern  recitative,  rhymed,  yet 
roughly  carven  (such  as  an  ancient  Hebrew  prophet  might 
have  sung  before  an  erring  king),  the  poet  of  the  people 
told  of  the  cloakmakers'  torture. 


THE   OBJECT-LESSON  125 

And  now  the  music  of  the  violin  accompanied  the  singer. 
At  first  it  was  in  a  soft  and  brooding  undertone,  like  the 
sobbing  of  hungry  children  in  the  dark. 

Presently  it  became  stronger  —  less  plaintive  —  fiercer  — 
menacing  —  as  the  poet,  in  the  homely  jargon  which  was  his 
native  tongue,  catalogued  the  sorrows  and  sufferings  of 
his  oppressed  countrymen  and  countrywomen. 

At  last  it  burst  out  into  a  tone  of  triumphant  irony  — 
like  that  of  a  prophet  who,  despairing  of  remedy  for  a  hope 
less  situation,  calls  on  those  who  created  it  to  look  on  their 
wretched  work.  This  ironical  vein  was  maddening.  It 
made  Joseph  long  to  arise,  to  go  down  into  the  street, 
and,  taking  the  first  capitalist  whom  he  might  meet  by  the 
throat,  to  knock  out  his  brains  with  a  stone. 

It  made  Miryam  weep ;  and  as  she  wept,  the  image  of 
her  dead  mother  lying  on  the  trestles  in  the  little  room, 
with  the  flies  buzzing  curiously  about  her  peaceful  and 
worn  face,  arose  before  her. 

It  recalled  to  Joseph  the  day  when  he  saw  his  young 
"  partner"  falling  face  downward  on  his  machine,  with  his 
mouth  distorted,  and  his  poor  lean  cheeks  withered  with 
hunger.  And  with  his  brow  aflame,  Joseph  started  up, 
making  wild  and  convulsive  movements  with  his  hands, 
and  crying,  — 

"  Stop  !  Stop  !     I  can't  bear  it ! " 

But  Mordecai  motioned  him  imperiously  to  his  seat,  and 
went  on,  with  a  proud  smile  for  a  moment  wreathing  his 
thin  lips,  as  a  ray  of  sunshine  sometimes  plays  about  the 
crater  of  a  volcano.  "  The  fit  was  on  him,"  as  Miryam 
had  aptly  phrased  it,  and  nothing  but  death  could  stay  the 
current  of  his  splenetic  and  vindictive  singing. 

There  was  a  curious  refrain  to  the  eight-line  verses,  con 
taining  a  passionate  appeal  to  the  workers,  so  terribly  op 
pressed,  to  arise  and  strike  down  the  tyrants.  Into  this 


126  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

refrain  Baumeister  and  his  band  had  wrought  all  the  venom 
of  their  cunning;  and,  as  delivered  by  Mordecai,  it  was  a 
startling  incentive  to  violence. 

The  last  verse,  which  compared  the  young  girls,  fading 
so  quickly  in  the  noisome  atmosphere  of  the  sweaters' 
dens,  to  the  flowers  cut  down  by  the  mowers,  and  wither 
ing  speedily  in  the  harsh,  sharp  sunlight,  was  irresistibly 
moving.  Bathsheba  veiled  her  face,  and  great  sobs  shook 
her  broad  bosoin.  Then  came  anew  the  ironical  refrain, 
with  the  mournful  undertone  of  music.  Mordecai's  in 
tense,  vibrating  tones  died  away. 

He  sank  down  into  a  chair,  looking  white  and  old. 

The  dark-faced  fiddler  hugged  his  violin,  and  gazed  out 
at  window,  as  if  he  saw  there  all  the  horrors  mentioned 
in  the  song. 

A  new  Marseillaise  of  the  poor  had  been  born  in  that 
humble  apartment;  and  now  that  the  singing  was  over, 
it  seemed  almost  as  if  the  palpitating  listeners  could  hear 
the  beating  of  the  wings  of  the  great  angels  of  War  and 
Revolution,  as  they  receded  to  the  spaces  from  which  they 
had  come  down  to  infuse  their  spirit  into  this  group  of 
mortals. 

David  was  the  first  to  speak.  He  knew  that  the  tension 
could  be  relieved  only  by  a  practical  remark.  So  he  said,  — 

4<I  will  give  you  twenty  dollars  to  sing  that  song  as  well 
as  that  on  the  stage  of  our  theatre  next  Saturday  after 
noon,  Herr  Mordecai." 

"  Oh,  father  sings  just  as  well  one  time  as  another,"  said 
the  rotund  little  wife,  who  was  jealous  of  her  husband's 
reputation.  "  That  is,  you  know,  after  the  first  inspiration 
has  come  to  him.  For  he  gets  a  fresh  inspiration  with 
every  new  song;  don't  you,  father  ?  " 

Mordecai  ignored  his  wife's  loving,  although  clumsy, 
efforts  to  aid  him,  and  after  one  or  two  weak  protests  he 


THE   OBJECT-LESSON  127 

closed  with  David's  offer.  "  Such  chances  are  not  to  be 
neglected,"  he  said.  "And  if  the  cloakmakers  were  there 
to  hear  they  might  be  influenced." 

"They  shall  be  there,"  said  David,  "for  I  will  invite 
them.  I  can't  feed  the  poor  creatures,  but  I  can  point  out 
the  way  "  — 

"For  them  to  help  themselves,"  said  Bathsheba,  arising 
with  her  cheeks  aglow.  "  That  is  it !  That  is  what  your 
song  will  do,  Mordecai.  It  will  teach  the  starving  people 
to  ask  in  such  a  way  that  they  cannot  be  refused.  Do 
you  not  think  so?"  she  asked  Joseph,  turning  suddenly 
to  him. 

Joseph  hesitated.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  in  a 
boat  which  had  drifted  loose  from  its  moorings,  and  was  at 
the  mercy  of  tide  and  wind.  For  weeks  he  had  fought  the 
Socialists  ;  had  rebelled  against  the  doctrine  of  Force  ;  had 
stigmatized  it  as  silly  and  criminal.  And  now  here,  after 
a  breath  of  song,  and  under  the  influence  of  this  woman 
Bathsheba's  eyes,  he  was  almost  ready  to  admit  that  the 
true  way  to  solve  the  cloakmakers'  situation  was  to  strike 
up  Mordecai's  song,  and  to  march  upon  Freier  and  Monach 
and  all  the  other  tyrants,  at  the  head  of  a  legion  or  two  of 
the  starving  people. 

"I  think  that  the  poet  of  the  people  has  sung  us  a  great 
song,"  he  answered,  trying  to  cast  off  the  influence  which 
seemed  mastering  him.  "  And  I  am  glad  the  men  in  our 
Union  are  to  have  a  chance  to  hear  it  at  the  theatre.  But 
I  should  not  like  to  see  them  aroused  to  any  deeds  of  vio 
lence,  because  I  am  afraid  that  —  well,  I  feel  certain  that  it 
would  ruin  the  cause." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,"  said  Mordecai  in  a  bitter  tone ;  "  yield, 
yield,  always  yield,  in  the  hope  of  concessions  which  never 
come!  It  is  the  story  of  our  people  "  — 

"  Well,  as  to  that,"  said  Joseph,   beginning  to   rally,  "  I 


128  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

don't  think  I  can  quite  agree  with  you.  We  have  already 
secured  a  good  many  concessions  from  the  sweaters  —  and 
who  says  that  we  shall  uot  win  the  final  battle  ?  It  seems 
to  me  that  it  is  not  so  very  far  off,  and  sometimes  I  feel 
confident  of  victory.  But  what  has  the  party  of  force  ever 
done  ?  I  certainly  never  heard  of  its  doing  anything 
practical." 

"  There  I  think  you  misjudge  it,"  said  Mordecai  un 
easily,  and  looking  at  Bathsheba,  as  if  he  read  his  lessou 
in  her  eyes.  "  The  party  of  force  is  preparing  the  grand 
revolution.  If  it  were  not  for  the  partial  revolutions  of 
leaders  like  yourself  —  men  whom  everybody  respects,  and 
Avhose  courage  nobody  doubts,  but  who  are  unwilling  to 
admit  that  Society  is  rotten,  and  must  be  swept  away  by 
complete  revolution  —  we,  that  is,  the  force  party,  would 
be  much  further  advanced  than  at  present." 

Joseph  listened  attentively,  but  with  the  air  of  one  far 
from  convinced. 

"And  are  those  your  sentiments  also?"  he  said  to 
Bathsheba,  turning  round  to  her  so  sharply  that  she  started 
and  lowered  her  eyes. 

"  They  are,"  she  said  almost  humbly.  "  Not  that  I 
would  presume  to  criticise  you  or  your  work,  which  is  so 
grand,  so  self-sacrificing"  (the  blood  stole  into  Joseph's 
cheeks),  "but  because  I  feel  that  nothing  can  be  done  with 
out  a  complete  social  revolution.  I  should  like  —  be  glad 
to  see  you  associated  in  such  work." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  America  ?  "  said  Joseph, 
keeping  his  gaze  steadfastly  on  Bathsheba. 

"  Long  enough  to  learn  that  poverty  is  as  bitter  and 
terrible  here  as  anywhere  else,"  she  answered  hotly. 

She  began  to  rebel  at  Joseph's  catechising  mood.  She 
had  fancied  that  she  would  be  able  more  quickly  to 
establish  her  influence  over  him. 


THE    Onj-KCT-J-ESSOX  129 

But  the  man  seemed  to  have  two  natures,  quite  differ 
ent,  yet  each  in  some  respects  completing  the  other.  One 
was  sensuous,  passionate,  sympathetic,  yielding;  the  other, 
cool,  practical,  unyielding  as  steel,  and  capable  of  leading 
him.  straight  to  martyrdom. 

With  woman's  unerring  intuition  she  made  sure  of  these 
things,  and  decided  to  accommodate  her  campaign  to  the 
newly  acquired  knowledge  of  his  traits. 

But  Joseph  was  gaining  ground  every  instant  now. 

"Poverty  is  hard  enough  to  bear  anywhere,"  he  said; 
"  but  the  remedy  for  it  is  not  revolution  in  this  country,  I 
am  sure.  It  would  be  poor  policy  to  undermine  and  blow 
up  a  magnificent  mansion  because  one  could  afford  to  live 
nowhere  in  it  except  in  the  basement." 

Bathsheba's  eyes  flashed.  She  liked  Joseph  all  the 
better  for  standing  to  his  guns. 

"Perhaps  it  is  as  you  think,"  she  said  sweetly.  "But 
I  believe  that  you  are  mistaken  ;  that  here  in  this  big  city 
there  are  tens  —  yes  hundreds  of  thousands  who  long  for 
the  Social  Revolution  —  for  the  regime  under  which 
every  one  will  do  just  as  he  or  she  pleases,  and  when  there 
will  be  no  inequalities  of  fortunes." 

"  Oh,  dear,  dear  !  "  sighed  Mordecai's  round  little  wife, 
"  what  a  blessed  day  that  would  be  !  No  more  click-clack 
of  sewing-machines  night  and  day,  I  should  think,  in  those 
times  ! "  And  she  took  a  huge  pinch  of  snuff  as  fiercely  as 
if  she  had  been  strangling  a  millionaire,  or  helping  to  hang 
a  manufacturer. 

"  It  may  come  to-day,  to-morrow,  in  a  week,  in  a  month 
—  this  Social  Revolution,"  said  Bathsheba,  lowering  her 
voice,  and  looking  around,  for  she  had  not  yet  learned  that 
America  is  a  free  country,  where  one  may  speak  without 
danger  of  spies.  "  How  did  you  know  that  you  were  not 
in  the  van  of  the  Social  Revolution  when  you  were  leading 
the  cloakmakers  to  Simon's  house  the  other  nicrht  ?  " 


130  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Joseph  was  startled.  How  little,  indeed,  it  would  have 
taken  to  send  the  mad  mob  of  hungry  men  and  women  into 
the  rich  quarters,  burning  and  sacking  and  ravaging ! 

He  had  thought  that  often  enough  since. 

"  But  it  could  only  have  ended  in  disaster  and  despair," 
he  said.  A  sudden  vertigo  seized  him ;  he  staggered  and 
would  have  fallen,  had  not  Bathsheba  stepped  forward, 
caught  him  in  her  strong  arms,  and  gently  lowered  him 
into  a  chair. 

The  little  wife  came  bustling  with  a  glass  of  wine.  But 
the  touch  of  Bathsheba's  arms  had  electrified  Joseph ;  he 
sat  up,  feeling  a  little  ashamed,  and  holding  one  hand  to 
his  head. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,"  he  said,  looking  around.  "  I 
have  been  up  so  much  nights  lately  that  I  am  a  little  top- 
heavy."  He  took  the  glass  of  wine,  drank  sparingly,  and 
professed  himself  as  well  as  ever.  But  the  mortal  pallor 
on  his  brow  belied  him. 

"  Fresh  air  is  what  Joseph  needs,"  said  David.  "  Instead 
of  bothering  him  with  your  socialistic  notions,  all  of  which, 
I  believe,  will  come  to  naught"  (here  Bathsheba  flashed  a 
keenly  reproachful  glance  upon  David),  "if  you  would 
take  him  up  to  Central  Park,  or  out  on  the  river,  you 
would  be  doing  the  cause  of  united  labor  a  real  service. 
And  you,  Joseph,  be  moi-3  careful  of  your  health.  Re 
member  the  proverb,  'Our  days  pass  quickly  over  us, 
even  as  the  shadow  of  a  flying  bird.'  " 

"  I  should  be  glad,  for  one  ! "  said  Bathsheba  quickly, 
addressing  Joseph,  "  if  you  would  take  David's  advice,  and 
if  we  might  all  go  together  into  the  upper  quarters  of 
New  York.  It  would  give  us  a  chance  to  teach  the  labor 
leader  an  object-lesson." 

"Yes,"  said  Mordecai  ;  "he  would  certainly  feel  the 
bitterness  of  poverty  more  keenly  when  we  came  back." 


THE   OBJECT-LESSON  131 

"  Then  why  go  ?  "  queried  Joseph.  "  No,  I  must  go 
home  to  my  wife  and  little  one.  I  have  left  them  too 
much  alone  since  they  arrived." 

A  shadow  so  imperceptible  that  no  one  save  Miryam, 
who  was  opening  her  eyes  now,  observed  it,  passed  over 
Bathsheba's  face. 

"  Oh,  it  was  only  in  the  hope  of  justifying  ourselves  in 
your  eyes,"  she  said  coquettishly. 

"  I  have  just  come  from  your  house,  Joseph,"  said  David, 
coining  up  and  putting  his  hand  on  the  young  labor  leader's 
shoulder,  "  and  I  met  Malcha  going  out  with  the  child.  I 
told  her  I  should  see  you  this  afternoon,  and  she  wished 
me  to  tell  you  that  she  had  found  Shiphrah,  and  was  going 
to  stop  with  her  until  evening."  He  lowered  his  voice. 
"  You  know  the  poor  Shiphrah  whom  you  pitied  so  much. 
It  seems  that  she  is  from  the  same  village  as  Malcha, 
and  Malcha  asked  me  to  implore  you  not  to  be  angry." 

"  No,"  said  Joseph,  his  brow  clearing,  "  it  is  an  errand 
of  mercy.  It  is  like  Malcha." 

".She  told  me  to  tell  you  another  thing,"  said  David  in  a 
whisper.  "  A  letter  has  come  from  her  mother,  and  in  it 
were  a  hundred  roubles,  which  the  good  woman  sent  just 
about  the  right  time,  didn't  she  ?  Now,  don't  be  proud 
because  of  this  good  news.  Remember  what  Rabbi  Ashi 
said :  '  He  who  hardens  his  heart  with  pride  softens  his 
brains  with  the  same.' " 

"There  really  is  nothing  to  be  proud  of,  unless  it  is 
Malcha's  good  sense,"  answered  Joseph.  But  he  felt  im 
mensely  relieved  even  at  this  momentary  cessation  from 
grinding  want.  A  sudden  hunger  for  rest  and  fresh  air, 
for  the  odor  of  trees  and  flowers,  for  contemplation  of  the 
calm  of  nature  and  the  beauty  of  summer,  seized  upon  him, 
and  would  not  be  appeased.  The  battle  in  his  nature, 
caused  by  the  intoxicating  song,  by  the  presence  of  Bath- 


132  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

sheba,  by  the  knowledge  that  he  was  treading  on  dangerous 
ground,  had  aroused  new  desires,  new  passions,  of  the 
existence  of  which  he  had  never  before  dreamed.  The 
spirit  of  resignation  was  dying  away  in  him,  and  in  its 
stead  arose  an  intense  longing  for  the  riches  and  luxury  of 
the  world.  To  his  inward  shame  and  sorrow,  he  found 
that  he  was  forgetting  the  poor  cloakmakers,  and  thinking 
only  of  himself. 

They  lingered  some  time  in  conversation,  while  the  little 
wife  pressed  the  simple  refreshments  upon  all.  Then 
Mordecai  sang  once  more  —  one  or  two  comic  folk-songs, 
which  yet  had  in  them  the  rebellious  and  menacing  spirit ; 
and  it  was  almost  six  o'clock  before  they  started  on  their 
stroll  up-town.  David  and  Miryam,  rejoicing  that  there 
was  no  theatre  for  them  that  evening,  led  the  way,  and  it 
seemed  natural  that  Joseph  should  escort  Bathsheba  down 
the  narrow  and  ill-lighted  stairs,  Mordecai  and  his  wife, 
very  quaint  in  their  provincial  Russian  Sunday  best  hats 
and  cloaks,  bringing  up  the  rear. 

As  they  were  descending  the  last  flight  of  stairs,  Bath 
sheba  turned  to  Joseph,  with  her  hand  gracefully  raised, 
and  said  with  an  arch  smile,  — 

"  Will  you  promise  to  confess  if  the  object-lesson  con 
vinces  you  ?  " 

"I  hope  I  shall  be  frank,"  he  said,  his  heart  leaping  as 
he  gazed  down  into  the  beautiful  face,  with  its  deep  mys 
terious  eyes,  from  which  Will-o'-the-wisp  fires  seemed  to 
dart  into  the  air. 

At  David's  suggestion  they  went  down  to  the  East  River, 
and  there,  at  a  pier  below  the  bridge,  they  embarked  on 
a  diminutive  white  steamer,  which  went  coughing  and 
wheezing  and  blowing  in  and  out  among  the  statelier  craft, 
and  carried  them  rapidly  up  stream. 

The  sunlight  lay  in  great  gleaming  masses  on  the  water ; 


THE   OBJECT-LESSON  133 

it  seemed  as  if  one  might  cut  out  pieces  of  it,  arid  take 
them  home. 

In  the  west  there  was  a  great  bank  of  golden  h.aze,  which 
would  have  delighted  the  soul  of  Turner,  could  he  have 
seen  it,  and  which  might  have  interested  some  of  our 
American  painters,  had  they  not  all  been  too  busy  inter 
preting  the  misty  blues  and  pearly  grays  of  England  <uid 
Northern  France. 

Against  this  sumptuous  background  arose  the  lines  £>f 
graceful  masts  and  spars  ;  and  now  and  then  across  it 
moved  the  symmetrical  mass  of  a  huge  Sound  steamer,  its 
white  sides  glistening  and  its  bows  throwing  up  fountain 
jets  of  diamond  foam.  Here  fluttered  gently  down  a  group 
of  white  sails,  capriciously  hovering  at  the  black  sides  of  a 
battered  ocean  liner,  drawn  by  two  quarrelsome  and  aggres 
sive  tugs.  The  sunshine  cast  its  glory  over  the  long  lines 
of  red  brick  warehouses,  on  the  tottering  and  dirty  docks, 
and  on  the  hundreds  of  bare-headed  mothers  with  children 
in  their  arms,  seated  at  the  dock's  ends,  in  the  hope  of 
securing  a  few  breaths  of  fresh  air.  The  vast  current, 
swirling  around  the  piers  and  boiling  and  eddying  about 
the  great  vessels  at  anchor,  caught  the  thousand  points  of 
darting  light,  and  reflected  them  in  a  million  ways  and  in 
infinitesimal  variations. 

A  cool  breeze  fanned  the  heated  brows  of  the  poor  ref 
ugees,  and  lent  a  sudden  animation  to  their  spirits,  which 
for  a  time  had  suffered  relapse  from  the  tension  caused  by 
Mordecai's  song. 

Now  the  steamer  began  to  dart  along  the  upper  reaches 
of  the  immense  tidal  stream  :  past  sugar  refineries,  with 
little  fleets  of  steamships  lying  at  their  wharves  ;  past  the 
low  shores  crowded  with  evidenced  of  abundant  wealth 
and  of  the  tremendous  inland  commerce  of  the  nation  ; 
past  the  "  Island,"  with  its  pretty  lawns  and  grim  penal 


134  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

institutions  and  asylums ;  and  presently  it  skirted  the 
wooded  shore  of  a  smaller  island,  dashed  in  and  out 
among  a  multitude  of  yachts  lying  peacefully  at  anchor, 
shot  through  a  drawbridge  which  opened  obediently 
at  its  approach,  and  pushed  up  to  the  entrance  of  the 
Harlem. 

Here,  at  a  rambling  and  crazy  old  dock  (like  all  the 
docks  in  the  metropolis)  the  friends  disembarked. 

Miryam  was  in  an  ecstatic  mood.  She  ran  and  gam 
bolled  like  a  child  of  six,  and  rallied  "  lieb  Joseph  "  and 
Bathsheba  on  their  solemn  and  careworn  look.  It  was  all 
that  David  could  do  to  subdue  her  gayety  so  that  it  should 
not  attract  the  notice  of  the  passers  by. 

"Well,"  said  Joseph,  who  had  never  seen  so  much  of 
New  York  before,  "  thus  far  we  have  set  eyes  on  nothing 
but  the  activity  of  people  working  hard  for  their  daily 
bread.  And  I  must  say  that  it  would  seem  very  hard  to 
upset  all  this  energy  and  industry  by  a  revolution,  just 
because  there  is  trouble  in  a  few  trades  like  ours,  and  one 
or  two  hundred  rascals  refuse  to  pay  decent  wages  for 
honest  labor." 

Bathsheba  did  not  answer,  and  her  silence  impressed 
Joseph  more  than  any  voluble  defence  of  her  doctrines 
could  have  done.  Gradually  she  assumed  guidance  of  the 
party,  and,  just  as  the  soft  summer  darkness  was  stealing 
over  earth  and  sky,  they  came  out  upon  Fifth  Avenue,  in 
front  of  the  Vanderbilt  mansions.  They  had  been  walk 
ing  for  a  long  distance,  having  taken  the  elevated  road  at 
One  Hundred  and  Twenty-Fifth  Street,  and  then  left  the 
train  at  the  wrong  station  and  got  lost;  and  Joseph's  thin 
cheeks  were  aglow  with  fatigue,  and  with  the  unwonted 
fresh  air,  when  they  halted,  and  stood  in  mute  contempla 
tion  of  the  line  of  palaces,  churches,  and  hotels  stretching 
away  on  either  side,  as  David  expressed  it,  "  like  the 


THE   OBJECT-LESSON  135 

Devil's  wheat-field,  which  was  bounded  on  one  side  by  the 
North  Pole  and  on  the  other  by  the  South  Pole." 

Now  that  they  were  beyond  the  familiar  neighborhood 
of  the  East  Side,  the  little  company  began  to  feel  strangely 
out  of  place,  and  each  gazed  at  the  other  as  if  challenging 
criticism  on  their  respective  shabbiness.  Bathsheba  glanced 
down  at  her  worn  and  frayed  dress,  which  was  not  in  the 
prevailing  fashion.  She  caught  at  the  edges  of  her  jacket, 
much  too  heavy  for  the  season,  and  the  collar  of  which  was 
of  decidedly  antiquated  design.  She  glanced  from  time  to 
time  at  Joseph,  and  was  ill  at  ease. 

Joseph  tugged  at  his  frayed  wristbands,  and  silently 
regretted  that  he  had  not  been  allowed  to  go  home  and  don 
his  one  good  coat.  He  took  off  his  hat  and  gave  it  a 
surreptitious  look.  The  band  was  stained,  and  the  sunlight 
of  two  seasons  had  taken  much  of  the  color  out  of  it.  Even 
Mordecai,  usually  draped  with  effective  majesty  in  his  own 
dignity,  seemed  dimly  conscious  that  his  attire  was  not  in 
harmony  with  that  of  the  trim  ladies  and  gentlemen  who 
sauntered  lazily  by  with  the  apologetic  air  of  well-to-do 
New  Yorkers  detained  in  town  in  summer. 

But  they  walked  on,  trying  to  be  gay,  and  gazing  at  man 
sion  after  mansion  without  the  remotest  idea  who  inhabited 
any  of  them.  Joseph  had  never  been  in  Fifth  Avenue  be 
fore,  nor  had  he  ever  set  foot  in  the  Park.  Like  tens  of 
thousands  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  East  Side  of  the  narrow 
and  crowded  island,  he  had  rarely  been  very  far  west  of 
the  Bowery,  or  north  of  Twenty-Third  Street. 

Up-town  was  unknown  land  to  him.  He  now  gazed  at 
the  acres  of  palaces,  the  majestic  entrances,  the  noble  base 
ments  well  protected  with  railings  of  wrought  iron,  the 
exquisite  windows  overlooking  vast  expanses  of  ornate 
architecture,  with  astonishment. 

He  had  never  been  in  a  large  city  in  Russia ;  and  no- 


136  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

where  before  had  he  seen  so  much  splendor.  "  Why  are 
the  houses  all  so  quiet  ?  many  of  them  seem  deserted,"  he 
ventured  to  say. 

"  0  Keb  Joseph  ! "  said  Miryam,  "  haven't  you  heard  that 
all  the  rich  people  leave  New  York  in  the  summer,  and  go 
to  beautiful  places  in  the  woods  and  at  the  seaside,  and  only 
come  back  when  there  is  no  more  hot  weather  ?  " 

"  While  we  sweat  sixteen  hours  over  our  flat-irons  and 
our  sewing-machines,  even  when  the  thermometer  is  at 
ninety,"  said  Bathsheba  in  a  low  voice  in  which  concen 
trated  passion  seethed  like  lava  at  a  volcano's  month. 
"  God !  God  !  How  can  it  be  right  that  some  should  be  so 
happy  and  fortunate  through  life,  while  others  toil  and 
struggle  in  torment,  and  die  without  leaving  enough  to 
bury  themselves  decently  ?  " 

The  intensity  of  Bathsheba's  utterance,  and  the  bitter 
ness  of  her  words,  seemed  to  touch  a  hidden  chord  in 
Joseph's  heart. 

He  turned  to  her  with  the  tears  standing  in  his  eyes, 
and  murmured  brokenly,  — 

"That  is  a  terrible  question.  Don't  ask  it  again;  it 
stings  me  — here,"  and  he  touched  his  breast. 

A  baleful  fire  flashed  from  Bathsheba's  splendid  eyes. 
With  a  tragic  gesture  she  pointed  to  the  scene  on  the 
broad  stone  steps  of  a  great  mansion  a  little  beyond  where 
they  were  standing. 

Two  beautiful  girls,  in  elegant  dinner  costume,  had  ven 
tured  out  upon  the  steps  in  the  warm  darkness,  and  around 
them  were  gathered  three  or  four  young  gentlemen,  in  even 
ing  dress,  who  paid  assiduous  court  to  the  beauties. 

In  the  doorway  a  majestic  mamma  was  enthroned  in  an 
easy-chair,  and  two  liveried  servants  were  just  bringing 
out  a  tiny  Turkish  table,  beautifully  inlaid  with  ivory  and 
precious  woods,  and  with  a  costly  coffee  service  and  liqueur 


THE   OBJECT-LESSON  187 

cellaret  arrayed  upon  it.  One  of  the  young  girls  was  strip 
ping  flowers  from  her  corsage,  and  distributing  them  with 
playful  gestures  to  the  courtiers  at  her  feet. 

Here  were  evidently  some  New  Yorkers  who  had  lin 
gered  in  town  in  defiance  of  the  conventionalities,  and 
who  were  enjoying  au  after-dinner  chat  under  cover"  of 
the  friendly  dusk  without  any  fear  of  scrutiny. 

Bathsheba  clutched  Joseph  by  the  arm,  and  pointed  to 
the  comfortable  group,  the  members  of  which  had  little 
idea  that  Misery  at  that  moment  had  her  envious  eyes  upon 
them. 

"  Do  you  see  that,  Joseph  Zalmonah  ?  "  she  hissed. 
"  What  more  convincing  than  that  do  you  want  for  an 
object-lesson  ?  What  do  you  think  of  the  society  that  can 
permit  such  insolent  luxury  as  that,  and  at  the  same  time 
insist  on  such  humble  slavery  as  that  of  your  poor  cloak- 
makers  ?  Do  you  think  that  you  can  ever  reason  with 
those  people  there  ?  "  pointing  to  the  steps  of  the  mansion. 
"  Not  much.  And  if  you  beg  of  them,  they  will  put  you 
in  prison,  or  in  an  asylum."  Her  voice  sank  to  a  husky 
whisper.  "  Why,  what  is  left,  then,  but  to  rise  up  and  com 
pel  them  —  by  force  —  to  be  just  —  to  give  a  reasonable 
share  of  the  world's  joys  and  abundance  to  those  who  are 
starving  for  them  ?  Why  don't  you  answer  me,  Joseph 
Zalmonah  ?  "  and  she  shook  his  arm  furiously. 

"  What  is  Bathsheba  doing  and  saying  ? "  cried  little 
Miryam,  running  up  with  a  protecting  air  to  Joseph,  who 
was  staring  at  the  group  on  the  mansion's  steps  as  if  he 
meant  that  the  memory  of  it  should  be  graven  on  his  heart. 


138  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE   STOEY    OF   SHIPHRAH 

As  they  came  away,  the  little  dark- faced  fiddler  said 
timidly, — 

"I  don't  see  that  those  people  were  doing  any  harm. 
They  were  just  enjoying  themselves.  They  did  not  ask  ns 
to  come  to  America  and  get  into  trouble." 

Bathsheba  gave  him  such  a  vicious  pinch  that  he  cried 
aloud,  and  was  tempted  to  resent  her  reproof.  But  some 
thing  in  his  spouse's  look  daunted  him.  He  felt  that  she 
was  in  some  mysterious  way  to  derive  profit  from  the 
•incident. 

The  poet  Mordecai  was  meditative.  He  was  already 
composing  a  ballad  on  the  episode  in  the  manner  of  Nek- 
rassof,  most  caustic  of  Russian  popular  poets,  and  was 
thinking  out  lines  full  of  bitter  irony.  Presently  David 
and  Miry  am  turned  the  little  party  homeward,  and  Joseph 
found  himself  side  by  side  with  Bathsheba,  and  some  dis 
tance  behind  all  the  others. 

She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.     Instinctively  he  stopped. 

"Pardon  me,  Joseph  Zalmonah,"  she  said,  speaking  in 
Russian,  a  language  which  Joseph  understood  perfectly, 
but  toward  which  he  felt  a  kind  of  grim  resentment,  as  if 
it  were  intimately  associated  with  the  misfortunes  of  his 
people.  "  I  had  something  to  say  to  you  in  private  — 
something  which  I  ought  to  say." 


THE   STORY  OF   SHIPHRAH  139 

Joseph  looked  down  into  Bathsheba's  eyes,  and  his  head 
swam.  He  fancied  that  she  must  hear  the  beating  of  his 
heart. 

"  I  am  listening,"  he  at  last  found  courage  to  say.  "  But 
why  should  it  be  a  secret  ?  I  don't  like  secrets.  I  have 
none  from  my  family,  my  friends —  my"  —  he  hesitated  an 
instant  —  "  my  wife." 

Bathsheba  understood.  She  had  gone  too  far.  She  felt 
a  strange  delight  that  Joseph  should  instinctively  repel 
the  advance  which  she  had  made.  It  wounded  her,  but 
raised  him  immensely  in  her  esteem.  When  she  spoke 
again  she  was  more  timid. 

"  I  just  wanted  to  tell  you  that  you  are  in  danger.  From 
what  I  have  seen  of  you  to-day,  I  believe  that  you  are  too 
valuable  to  yourself,  and  to  others,  to  be  sacrificed  in  a 
street  brawl  or  a  riot.  Some  of  the  men  whom  you  meet 
daily  are  determined  to  do  you  a  mischief.  Don't  ask  me 
how  I  know." 

"  But  why  should  they  wish  to  hurt  me  ? "  said  the 
young  leader,  studying  Bathsheba's  face  intently.  "  I 
have  never  done  anything  to  make  enemies." 

Bathsheba  gazed  at  him  in  genuine  wonder  now.  It  was 
evident  that  this  frank  and  guileless  youth  did  not  know 
that  by  the  very  sincerity  and  straightforwardness  of  his 
action  he  was  creating  enemies  at  every  turn. 

"  I  see  that  you  do  not  appreciate  the  risks  you  are 
running,"  she  said  somewhat  coldly,  and  moving  away 
from  him  as  she  saw  her  husband  looking  round.  "  Well, 
I  felt  it  a  duty  —  as  well  as  a  pleasure,"  she  turned  her 
gaze  full  upon  him,  "to  warn  you  against  the  Socialists. 
And  now  I  will  say  nothing  more  about  the  matter." 

"  The  Socialists !  Why,  they  told  me  that  you  are  a 
Socialist." 

"  And    you    think  it    strange  that   I  should  warn  you 


140  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

against  myself,  then  ?  "  she  said,  with  an  odd  little  laugh, 
and  catching  up  her  faded  draperies  around  her,  with  a 
swift  and  deft  movement  of  her  white  hand.  "  Come,  the 
others  are  leaving  us." 

They  went  slowly  onward,  down  the  great  avenue,  a 
trifle  abashed  by  its  magnificence,  and  by  the  air  of  ease 
and  comfort  which  characterized  all  the  passers  by. 
Through  the  soft  summer  darkness  the  huge  and  bold 
outlines  of  the  mansions  towered  dimly.  Here  and  there 
a  church,  with  pointed  spire  and  sculptured  portal,  relieved 
the  monotony  of  the  brown-stone  fronts. 

From  the  open  windows  of  clubs  came  the  sound  of 
laughter  and  gay  discussions ;  and  within  they  could  see 
walls  rich  with  gilding,  and  lined  with  costly  paintings. 
Alcoves  filled  with  palms  and  other  exotics,  and  stairways 
richly  carpeted,  met  their  gaze. 

Comfortable-looking  elderly  gentlemen,  in  cool  yet  prim 
garb,  sat  in  arm-chairs  at  the  broad  windows,  and  discussed 
with  sober  and  discreet  gestures.  Servants  in  evening 
dress  went  leisurely  to  and  fro,  bearing  seductive-looking 
drinks  in  crystal  goblets  on  silver  salvers. 

Mordecai  stopped  now  and  then  to  look  in  upon  one  of 
these  scenes  of  splendor,  and  as  he  stood  with  his  gaunt 
face  ravaged  by  the  passion  of  anger,  his  eyes  sparkling 
with  resentment  against  the  rich  as  a  class,  and  his  lips 
open,  displaying  his  teeth,  as  if  he  would  like  to  pounce 
upon  the  "  idlers,"  as  he  called  them  in  one  of  his  poems, 
he  was  not  a  pleasant  spectacle  to  contemplate. 

While  they  gazed  and  walked  and  felt  a  growing  new 
consciousness  of  the  miserable  nature  of  their  own  poor 
quarter  to  which  they  were  returning,  a  sudden  thirst  for 
riches,  an  almost  uncontrollable  desire  to  participate  in 
the  luxury  and  ease  before  him,  sprang  into  Joseph's  heart, 
and  behind  it  followed  all  kinds  of  mad  and  black  ideas  — 


THE   STORY    OF    SHIPHRAH  141 

so  that  for  the  moment  he  was  literally  possessed  of  a 
demon  in  the  old  Biblical  sense. 

Did  Bathsheba,  by  a  magnetism  so  subtle  that  he  could 
not  perceive  it,  infuse  her  own  ideas  and  longings  into  his 
spirit  ?  He  never  knew  and  never  dreamed  of  asking  him 
self  the  question. 

But  he  did  know  that  for  a  full  half-hour,  on  that  sum 
mer  evening,  sheltered  by  the  darkness,  he  walked  abroad 
the  very  incarnation  of  destruction,  ready  to  hack,  burn, 
and  destroy,  in  order  to  gain  entrance  to  the  terrestrial 
paradises,  glimpses  of  which  were  so  new  and  so  torment 
ing  to  him. 

This  savage  mood  passed  away  long  before  East  Broadway 
was  reached.  Joseph  left  his  companions  in  an  elevated  road 
train,  and  trudged  home  with  a  curious  collection  of  hopes 
and  fears  crowding  each  other  in  his  mind.  As  he  arrived 
at  his  house  he  was  surprised  to  see  Ben  Zion  seated  on  the 
front  steps,  and  Malcha  haranguing  him  in  a  wild,  passion 
ate  way. 

Malcha's  eyes  were  red,  and  it  was  plain  that  she  had 
been  weeping. 

The  husband  bounded  up  the  steps,  and  took  the  little 
wife  in  his  arms.  "  Nothing  has  happened  to  Zipporah,  I 
hope  ?  "  he  said  anxiously,  as  the  small  mother  laid  her 
head  trustfully  against  his  thin  and  worn  breast. 

Malcha  looked  up,  smiling  through  her  tears.  "  Nothing. 
It  is  about  Shiphrah.  They  have  hidden  her  away,  and 
won't  let  me  see  her." 

Ben  Zion  arose,  stretched  himself,  and  came  forward  as  if 
desirous  of  being  called  into  action. 

"  Shiphrah  ?  "  queried  Joseph  ;  "  but  I  thought  that  you 
had  been  with  her  all  the  afternoon.  I  am  sure  that  David 
told  me  so." 

"  Ah  !  we  were  to  have  been  with  her,  but  they  have  put 
her  away  where  we  can't  "  — 


142  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"  Who  ?  " 

"The  sweaters!  Listen,  Joseph.  Shiphrah's  father 
came  to  find  me,  hoping  that  I  might  have  some  news  of 
the  poor  girl.  But  I  had  no  comfort  for  the  dear  old  soul, 
and  while  he  sits  here  moaning  and  pulling  his  hair,  and 
whining  for  his  child,  in  rushes  Ben  Zion,  all  out  of 
breath  "  — 

Here  Ben  Zion  came  directly  into  Joseph's  range  of 
vision,  and  made  a  bow  so  full  of  dignity  and  whimsical 
self-importance,  that  Joseph's  thin  lips  were  wreathed  with 
a  smile. 

"  —  and  Ben  Zion  says, '  I  have  found  out  where  Shiphrah 
is.  She  is  hidden  away  in  old  Grunberg's,  the  sweater's, 
and  he  swears  that  she  shall  not  go  into  the  street  until 
she  has  worked  out  her  debt  to  him.'  Then  I  asked  her 
father  to  call  the  police  and  have  them  interfere,  but  he  is 
an  old  fool,  and  won't  do  that.  0  Joseph,  can't  the  police 
compel  that  beast  to  let  Shiphrah  go  ?  They  say  she  is 
dying  by  inches  ! " 

"  Who  says  so  ?  "  inquired  Joseph  calmly,  but  looking 
admiringly  on  his  little  wife,  to  whom  the  indignation 
which  she  felt  over  Shiphrah's  fate  had  given  a  piquant 
and  animated  beauty. 

Ben  Zion  recited  to  Joseph  the  story  which  the  girls  had 
told  him  in  the  "  Pig  Market."  Joseph  was  thoughtful  for 
a  moment ;  then  his  fine  face  lighted  up  with  intense  reso 
lution. 

He  brought  one  hand  down  upon  the  shoulder  of  Ben 
Zion  with  a  force  which  made  the  pedler  jump.  "  This  is 
not  a  case  for  the  police  !  "  he  said ;  "  I  will  attend  to  it 
myself.  Grunberg  must  give  up  Shiphrah  at  an  instant's 
notice,  or  he  must  reckon  with  me  ! " 

"  O  Joseph,  do  be  c;ireful,  for  Grunberg  is  a  desperate 
man,"  wailed  little  Malcha.  "  Remember  what  they  say  of 


THE   STOHY   OF   SHIPHRAH  143 

him,  that  he  threw  an  old  man  down-stairs  because  he  com 
plained  that  he  was  getting  blind  in  such  a  den !  And 
they  say  that  he  strikes  the  work-girls !  " 

'•'  He  calls  it  ironing  them,"  said  Ben  Zion  in  his  unc 
tuous  voice.  "  When  a  girl  doesn't  work  fast  enough  to 
please  him,  he  takes  one  of  the  pressing-irons  off  from  the 
red-hot  stove  and  threatens  to  apply  it  to  her  back.  A  Polish 
girl  threw  the  shears  at  him  one  day  for  threatening  her, 
and  he  ironed  her  so  that  she  couldn't  get  out  of  bed  for  a 
week.  Her  mother  went  to  the  police  court  about  it ;  but 
there !  they  don't  understand  one-half  that  you  say,  and 
they  never  interfere  unless  there  is  an  actual  fight.  What 
can  you  do  ?  "  Ben  Zion  held  the  palms  of  his  hands  up, 
and  shook  them  with  as  much  force  as  if  he  had  been 
apostrophizing  Grunberg  himself. 

"  I  will  give  him  a  lesson  !  He  shall  reckon  with  me 
and  with  the  Union  !  "  said  Joseph,  raising  his  right  arm, 
and  making  a  peculiar  downward  sweeping  gesture,  which 
he  was  wont  to  make  when  addressing  large  throngs,  and 
when  greatly  excited. 

On  viewing  this  gesture,  Ben  Zion  felt  that  the  "  whole 
business,"  as  he  afterwards  expressed  it  in  conversation 
with  a  neighbor,  "  was  bitten  off  and  chewed,"  and  that  he 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait.  So  he  agreed  to  meet  Jo 
seph  at  Grunberg's  the  next  morning  at  ten  o'clock,  and 
then  went  away  to  engage  in  some  one  of  his  many  occu 
pations. 

The  story  of  Shiphrah  was  sad  and  exceptional.  She 
had  come  with  her  father,  Manasseh  Rosenstein,  from  'Rus 
sia,  three  years  ago.  When  the  lonely  Manasseh,  with  his 
shy  and  lily-faced  little  daughter,  had  left  the  town  in 
which  Malcha  lived,  they  had  a  small  capital,  represented 
by  the  sale  of  their  effects  at  half-price  to  the  Russian  offi- 


144  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAH 

cials  who  expelled  them.  Manasseh,  who  was  the  most 
harmless  of  men,  and  whose  only  fault  was  an  intense  de 
votion  to  the  tenets  of  orthodox  Judaism,  was  boldly 
accused  by  the  officials  of  "attempting  to  conspire."  It 
was  a  meaningless  charge,  and  without  foundation ;  but  it 
served  to  secure  his  expulsion  from  the  "  Pale,"  with  a 
horde  of  common  wretches,  who  were  marched  from 
"  etape  "  to  "  etape  "  under  the  cruel  guardianship  of  gen 
darmes,  and  with  fetters  on  their  limbs. 

Manasseh  trudged  uncomplainingly  to  the  frontier  with 
his  willowy,  graceful  sixteen-year-old  daughter  at  his  side, 
and  he  quitted  Russia  without  regret.  In  fact,  he  bestowed 
upon  it,  beholding  it  while  he  was  safe  on  German  soil,  a 
malediction  worthy  the  eloquence  and  the  inspiration  of  an 
ancient  Hebrew  prophet. 

When  the  couple  reached  the  promised  land  of  America, 
Manasseh  accepted  with  meekness  the  humiliating  disap 
pointment  which  awaited  him  here.  He  shrank  into  a  little 
basement  in  Hester  Street,  filled  a  mouldy  window  with 
mouldier  Hebrew  books,  mostly  of  a  pious  nature,  and  went 
through  the  forms  of  earning  a  livelihood. 

A  bit  of  bread  and  a  black  sausage  satisfied  his  wants ; 
and  he  slept  among  his  books,  with  his  head  pillowed  on  an 
ancient  Talmud,  for  which  he  might  have  got  a  handsome 
sum,  had  such  a  sacrilegious  thought  as  selling  it  ever 
entered  his  head. 

But  Shiphrah  could  not  participate  in  his  contentment. 
Although  nurtured  in  the  sternest  orthodoxy,  she  gave  evi 
dence  of  a  desire  to  rebel  against  the  many  observances 
which  make  of  the  Jews  a  peculiar  people.  The  damp  little 
room  in  the  rear  of  her  father's  shop,  where  she  made  her 
bed  on  two  packing-boxes  covered  with  time-worn  furs 
brought  from  Russia,  and  the  occasional  invasion  of  this 
singular  domicile  by  inquisitive  and  predatory  rats,  filled 


THE   STORY   OF   SHIPHRAH  145 

her  with  disgust.  The  old  man  saw  with  horror  that  she 
was  daily  slipping  away  from  him,  and  that  all  the  barriers 
of  the  historic  faith  no  longer  existed  between  her  and  the 
outer  modern  world,  with  its  dangers,  its  heresies,  and  its 
abominations.  At  first  he  was  disposed  to  correct  Shiph- 
rah  with  sternness ;  but  a  conviction  stole  through  him 
that  it  would  be  useless  to  try.  He  mourned  in  silence, 
and  was  more  rigid  than  ever  in  his  own  observances  of  re 
ligious  form. 

In  all  that  concerned  the  common  life  Shiphrah  was  com 
pelled  to  conform.  Manasseh  was  such  a  Sabbatarian  as  no 
New  England  farmer  ever  dreamed  of  being.  On  Friday  night 
he  began  to  prepare  for  the  Saturday  of  prayer  and  repose. 

His  window  remained  open,  and  the  books  were  exhibited, 
but  he  never  made  the  smallest  effort  to  sell  them.  A 
"  reformed "  Jewess  was  hired  to  cook  the  food  which 
Shiphrah  ate  on  Saturday;  her  father  would  not  allow  her 
to  do  any  work  on  that  day.  He  himself  ate  only  food 
cooked  the  night  before.  He  would  not  light  the  cigarette 
which  on  week-days  "was  his  main  consolation. 

He  looked  upon  men  and  women  who  amused  themselves 
by  visits  to  theatre  or  social  club  on  the  sacred  day  as 
criminals.  Dressed  in  a  faded  brown  coat  which  hung 
down  to  his  heels,  in  voluminous  trousers  which  ended 
just  above  his  boot-tops,  and  in  a  fur  cap  to  which  he  clung 
even  in  the  fierce  heats  of  August ;  with  long  locks  of  hair 
combed  in  front  of  his  ears,  and  with  a  pious  book  in  his 
hands,  he  walked  up  and  down  Hester  Street  on  Saturdays, 
with  eye  and  brain  oblivious  to  the  secular  world,  the  waves 
of  which  beat  noisily  around  him. 

He  was  a  devout  worshipper  in  one  of  the  many  syna 
gogues  scattered  through  the  quarter. 

It  was  reached  by  a  perilous  journey  up  dark  and 
rickety  flights  of  stairs,  on  which  so  many  tiny  children 


146  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

were  always  poking  their  way  about  that  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  make  a  step  without  planting  a  foot  on  one 
of  their  squirming  little  bodies. 

The  synagogue,  with  its  long  rows  of  benches,  divided 
into  sections  for  the  men  and  the  women  ;  with  its  central 
praying-desk,  its  dingy  walls,  and  its  schoolrooms,  where 
children  were  taught  the  wisdom  of  the  Talmud  —  this 
spiritual  refuge  amid  the  boisterous  misery  of  the  exiles' 
quarter,  was  Manasseh's  favorite  retreat.  When  he  en 
tered,  a  smile  lighted  up  his  usually  dark  and  severe 
features ;  when  he  left  it,  and  made  his  way  back  to  the 
street,  something  of  the  spiritual  glow  still  lingered,  and 
he  placed  his  hands  benign  an  tly  on  the  heads  of  the 
children  crowding  about  his  door,  with  a  patriarchal  gen 
tleness  and  protecting  air,  as  of  old  his  ancestors  had  done 
at  the  entrances  of  the  tents  of  Israel. 

One  day  Manasseh  was  troubled,  and  his  hands  trembled 
when  he  went  into  the  synagogue  in  Ludlow  Street,  for  he 
did  not  find  Shiphrah  there.  Until  then  she  had  preserved 
all  the  outward  signs  of  adherence  to  the  strictest  ortho 
doxy,  and  this  backsliding  was  a  great  blow  to  the  father. 
It  hurt  him  all  the  worse  because  among  the  orthodox 
Jews  the  women  are  usually  more  fanatical  than  the  men ; 
and  Shiphrah  speedily  had  at  her  heels  a  score  of  feminine 
critics,  ready  to  accuse  her  of  all  the  sins  in  the  calendar 
of  wickedness,  simply  because  she  had  fallen  away  from 
orthodoxy. 

About  this  time  old  Manasseh  fell  ill,  which  was  not 
wonderful,  considering  that  he  lived  in  a  basement  unfit 
for  a  dog-kennel ;  and  Shiphrah,  seeing  the  last  few  coins 
of  their  tiny  hoard  vanishing,  and  the  father's  trifling  com 
merce  at  a  standstill,  quietly  stepped  into  a  sweater's  shop 
and  offered  her  services.  After  the  preliminary  purgatory 
of  payments  to  learn  the  trade,  Shiphrah  was  at  last  ad- 


THE   STORY   OF   SHIPHRAH  147 

mitted  to  the  sisterhood  of  misery,  and  began  to  earn  four 
dollars  weekly.  And  on  this  pittance  old  Manasseh  and 
the  girl  had  lived  for  two  years,  when  the  tempter  came. 

Shiphrah  was  pretty,  of  a  voluptuous  yet  refined  beauty 
rather  uncommon  in  women  of  her  class,  and  her  priva 
tions  and  incessant  toil  had  added  a  pensive  grace  to 
her  naturally  interesting  features.  While  she  was  in 
despair  at  her  hard  lot,  she  attracted  the  notice  of  a  small 
manufacturer,  a  Russian  Hebrew  like  herself. 

This  man  had  set  aside  his  wife  because  of  some  fancied 
or  real  grievance,  and  besought  Shiphrah  to  give  him  her 
love,  in  return  for  emancipation  from  the  horrible  drudgery 
which  was  consuming  her  youth,  and  which  weekly  sent 
some  poor  man  to  die  in  the  hospital. 

The  young  manufacturer  was  handsome  and  pressing. 
Shiphrah  yielded  to  his  solicitations,  but  dared  leave 
neither  her  work  nor  the  wretched  domicile  of  her  father 
without  an  explanation  which  she  feared  might  result  in  a 
tragedy. 

But  at  last  the  chance  came,  and  Shiphrah  was  quick  to 
grasp  it. 

It  was  during  the  feast  of  the  Passover,  the  eight  days 
of  which  were  for  Manasseh  a  long  spiritual  relaxation. 
He  left  the  cares  of  the  vulgar  world  behind  him,  and 
revelled  in  the  antique  ceremonials  which  meant  so  much 
to  him.  The  lowering  April  weather  caused  him  torments 
of  rheumatism ;  but  Manasseh  insisted  on  enacting  each 
ceremonial  as  he  had  done  in  the  old  days  when  his  wife 
and  large  family  of  sons  and  daughters,  now  all  gone  but 
Shiphrah,  were  gathered  about  him. 

It  was  on  the  night  when  Manasseh  observed  "  Seder " 
that  Shiphrah  saw  her  chance.  A  warm  rain  was  falling. 
Manasseh  closed  his  windows,  drew  the  old  curtains,  and 
lighted  the  candles.  Then  he  placed  the  half-worn  pillow 


148  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

from  Shiphrah's  rude  couch  on  two  chairs,  arranged  a 
spread  over  it,  and,  as  the  head  of  the  family,  sat  in 
solemn  state  beside  it. 

Shiphrah  had  arrayed  on  the  extemporized  table  the 
plate  with  unleavened  bread  —  the  three  flat  cakes  on  a 
cracked  bit  of  crockery ;  the  bit  of  lamb,  the  cooked  egg, 
the  grated  horse-radish,  and  the  crushed  walnut  with  wine. 
And  now  she  sat  in  her  corner,  white  and  mute. 

Manasseh  had  put  on  the  white  robe  over  his  ordinary 
clothing,  and  his  lugubrious  appearance  added  to  Shiphrah's 
steadily  growing  fear. 

First  he  took  one  of  the  flat  cakes  from  the  centre,  broke 
it  in  half,  and  placed  the  larger  half  under  the  pillow. 
Next,  as  the  head  of  the  family,  he  passed  the  unleavened 
bread. 

Then,  reclining  as  best  he  could  in  the  narrow  quarters, 
he  partook  of  the  lamb  and  the  egg  seasoned  with  the 
grated  horse-radish,  and  Shiphrah  also  ate  in  silence. 
After  this  Manasseh  began  a  long  reading  from  the  "  Hag- 
gadah,"  and  when  bitter  things  were  mentioned  he  placed 
his  hand  upon  the  crushed  walnut  as  a  reminder.  On  and 
on  he  read,  in  droning  tone,  while  the  candle  sputtered, 
until  at  last,  from  very  weariness,  he  ceased,  and  glanced 
over  his  great  iron-bowed  spectacles  at  Shiphrah,  white 
and  mournful  in  her  corner.  As  he  gazed  at  her  a  sudden 
compassion  seized  upon  him,  and  he  stretched  out  his  hand 
to  the  poor  over- worked  girl. 

She  arose,  tottered  to  his  chair,  and  fell  on  her  knees 
before  him,  crying,  "  Father,  father,  read  no  more  to-night ! 
O  father,  I  have  sinned,  and  am  unworthy  to  remain  in  your 
sight.  And  now  I  must  go  away  and  leave  you  !  But  my 
care  will  always  be  over  you  —  my  love  will  be  about 
you!" 

Manasseh  let  the  Haggadah  fall  from  his  hands,  and  sat 


THE   STORY   OP  J3HIPHRAH  149 

listening,  with  terrible  grimness,  while  Shiphrah  told  her 
story.  Tlieu  he  arose  quietly,  and  seizing  the  new  plates 
bought  expressly  for  the  ceremony  of  that  evening,  he 
raised  them  high  above  his  head,  and  dashed  them  with 
fury  upon  the  floor. 

This  was  his  only  sign  of  rage.  Then  he  took  the  kneel 
ing  Shiphrah  by  the  hand,  raised  her  up,  led  her  to  the 
door,  which  was  ajar,  and  threw  it  wide  open.  "  Go  !"  he 
said  hoarsely ;  "  do  not  desecrate  our  home  any  longer ! " 

The  rain  was  still  falling.  Shiphrah  was  thinly  clad  and 
bareheaded  :  she  made  an  imploring  gesture,  but  the  old 
man  was  implacable.  He  closed  the  door  in  her  face,  and 
in  a  minute  the  light  in  his  window  went  out. 

Shiphrah  was  alone.  She  walked  through  the  rain  to 
the  sweater's  house,  and  sat  on  his  stairs  until  his  doors 
opened.  An  hour  later  all  her  little  household  belongings 
were  delivered  there.  The  sweater  knew  of  her  adventure 
with  the  manufacturer,  and  understood.  And  that-  night 
the  girl  was  installed  in  a  comfortable  home. 

But  the  orthodox  women  averted  their  faces  when  she 
passed  them  in  the  street,  and  said  that  after  her  departure 
Manasseh  had  wailed  long  and  loudly  for  her,  as  for  one 
dead. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  the  life  romance  of  Shiphrah. 

Manasseh  did  not  wither  away,  as  all  his  fellow-worship 
pers  at  the  synagogue  predicted.  He  grew  gloomier  and 
more  fanatical  than  ever.  But  one  day,  a  year  after  her 
departure  from  his  door,  there  came  news  to  him  that 
Shiphrah  had  narrowly  escaped  death  in  premature  child 
birth  ;  that  she  had  been  abused,  and  at  last  openly  de 
serted  by  her  cowardly  lover,  and  finally  that  she  had 
drifted  back  into  the  sweating-shop. 

Then  his  heart  longed  for  Shiphrah,  and  he  sought  her 
everywhere.  But  never  had  he  been  able  to  find  her  until, 


150  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

through  Ben  Zion's  aid,  he  had  learned  that  she  was  held 
in  veritable  slavery  in  Gruuberg's  den. 

And  now  Joseph  was  to  liberate  her,  as  he  had  already 
liberated  so  many  white  slaves,  from  a  bondage  far  worse 
than  any  ever  suffered  by  the  unhappy  African. 


GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS  151 


CHAPTER    XIII 
GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS 

A  LONG  ray  of  golden  sunshine  came  in  through  the 
dusty  window  of  the  sweater's  dingy  and  malodorous  rooms, 
and,  for  an  instant  only,  touched  and  glorified  Shiphrah's 
face. 

The  girl  sat  in  a  corner,  surrounded  by  half  a  dozen  dark 
haired,  slovenly  Polish  Jewesses,  one  of  whom  was  weeping 
as  she  toiled.  Her  tears  fell  on  the  garment  in  her  hands 
but  that  was  so  common  a  spectacle  as  to  attract  no  specia" 
attention. 

Shiphrah  gave  her  fellow-slave  a  sympathetic  look  no\v 
and  then ;  but  she  was  the  only  one  who  ventured  to  glanc( 
up  from  labor  and  to  bestow  a  little  compassion.  For  th( 
sweater  was  near  by,  standing  at  a  table  facing  the  girls 
and  he  had  a  heavy  hand. 

He  was  a  short,  stout  man,  with  a  round  head  coverec 
with  bristling  hair,  with  thick  lips,  and  a,  nose  conspicu 
ously  flattened  at  the  nostrils.  His  hairy  arms  were  nakec 
to  the  shoulder,  and  when  he  flourished  them  every  one  h 
the  two  rooms  trembled.  Even  his  wife  was  afraid  of  him 
and  kept  one  eye  on  his  movements,  observing  symptom; 
of  rising  storm,  and  sometimes  giving  warning  of  them  t< 
the  girls  by  mysterious  feminine  signals,  too  acute  for  th< 
apprehension  of  man. 

The  sweater  had  been  "  sweated  "  himself,  and  he  knev 


152  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

his  trade  perfectly.  He  understood  the  art  of  reducing 
the  human  body  to  a  machine-like  regularity  of  action,  every 
atom  of  energy  in  which  should  be  concentrated  upon  the 
production  of  salable  articles. 

He  understood  how  to  crush  out  every  playful  instinct, 
to  repress  each  attempt  at  friendly  conversation,  and  to 
menace  when  there  was  a  tendency  to  unruliness.  If  a 
girl  stopped  to  eat  an  apple,  he  had  been  known  to  take  it 
from  her  and  to  throw  it  out  of  the  window. 

"You  will  have  nothing  to  buy  apples  with  at  the  end  of 
the  week,  if  you  waste  your  time  like  that ! "  he  would 
cry ;  and  the  poor  slave  would  tremblingly  resume  her 
sewing,  without  daring  to  look  up. 

It  was  this  sweater's  boast  that  none  of  his  cloakmakers 
belonged  to  Joseph's  Union.  "  None  of  their  nonsense  for 
me  ! "  he  was  wont  to  say.  "  If  they  meddle  with  my  busi 
ness,  I  will  soon  show  them  that  I  am  independent.  If 
they  take  my  operators  away,  I  can  get  a  hundred  more  by 
whistling  at  my  door."  But  he  secretly  feared  Joseph  ;  and 
on  this  very  morning,  as  he  counted,  sorted,  and  piled  the 
garments,  he  was  plotting  to  propitiate  him. 

"  I  would  like  to  knock  off  work  at  seven  to-night,"  said  a 
thin,  pasty-faced  operator,  shuffling  up  to  the  "  boss,"  and 
holding  his  hands  clasped  together  in  the  supplicating 
and  timid  way  which  showed  the  strain  of  Orientalism  in 
his  nature.  "  We  expect  a  new  baby  at  our  house,  and  my 
wife,  she  "  — 

"Expect  and  have  are  not  twins,  you  know,"  said  the 
sweater  brutally.  "  Stay  where  you  are,  and  without  loaf 
ing,  too,  until  half-past  ten  to-night !  Don't  try  to  play 
'  doctor  '  here.  You  can  do  that  when  you  get  home." 

The  man  flushed  deeply,  then  paled,  and  two  great  tears 
rolled  down  his  cheek.  He  understood  the  allusion.  In 
the  sweater's  lingo,  a  workman  who  is  too  particular,  in  their 


GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS  153 

opinion,  about  the  number  of  hours  he  works,  is  called  "doc 
tor  ; "  and  after  he  has  been  called  so  a  few  times,  the 
sweater  kicks  him  out  of  the  shop,  claiming  that  he  is  demor 
alizing  all  the  others.  He  gazed  sharply  at  the  boss  for  a 
few  seconds,  then  turned  despairingly  away,  and  hobbled 
back  to  his  sewing-machine,  which  was  in  a  dark  corner. 

It  was  a  day  of  intense  heat,  and  the  sweat  rolled  from 
the  brows  of  the  swarthy  men  as  they  sat  at  the  machines. 
It  plashed  on  their  arms,  and  left  long  marks  on  the  wood 
work,  as  the  deft  fingers  guided  the  cloaks  to  the  music  of 
the  needle.  No  one  seemed  to  think  of  the  heat ;  and  in 
the  centre  of  the  smaller  of  the  two  rooms  stood  a  round 
stove,  with  flat-irons  upon  it.  This  stove  was  red  hot,  and 
gave  out  a  sickening  odor,  which  made  the  girls  seated 
nearest  to  it  gasp  for  breath. 

What  tremendous  activity  pervaded  the  little  company 
of  twenty-five  men,  women,  and  children  !  Gazing  on  it 
with  his  merciless  eyes,  the  sweater  felt  a  pride  in  the 
talent  for  organization  which  it  manifested.  In  this 
Inferno  he  made  his  fortune  ;  every  click  of  the  machines 
meant  profit  to  him.  In  the  earnestness  of  his  desire  for 
gain,  the  hours  did  not  seem  long  enough;  and  if  his 
wretched  toilers,  after  leaving  at  ten  at  night,  were  not 
back  again  before  dawn,  he  cursed  them,  and  often  flew  at 
them  like  a  wild  beast. 

The  operators  began  with  sewing  the  seams,  the  sleeves, 
and  fastening  the  "  foundations  "  on  to  the  cloaks.  Then 
they  sewed  on  the  face-cloths,  and  raced  the  needles  round 
the  bodies  of  the  coats,  and  sewed  up  to  the  slits. 

After  this  they  took  the  points  out,  and  stitched  all 
round.  Then  came  the  under-collar,  which  was  stitched 
upon  a  piece  of  stiffening,  and  next  the  over-collar,  after 
which  the  needles  took  another  run  round,  to  make  all  things 
firm. 


154  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Meantime  the  attendant  girls  were  catching  up  cloak 
after  cloak,  as  they  came  hot  from  the  machines,  and  bast 
ing  in  the  sleeves.  Then  the  garments  went  back  to  the 
operators,  to  have  the  sleeves  fitted  and  the  bindings  sewed 
on. 

And  now  the  pressman's  work  began,  or,  more  correctly, 
never  ended;  for  as  fast  as  he  had  one  pile  of  cloaks  in 
shape,  another  loomed  up  before  him  ;  and  when  he  dragged 
his  weary  legs  away  at  night,  mountains  of  cloaks  cast  a 
frowning  shadow  behind  him. 

Each  cloak  passed  in  review  before  the  sweater,  who  with 
skilful  fingers  marked  with  chalk  the  places  for  the  but 
tons.  Then  he  distributed  them  to  the  button-sewers, 
throwing  down  a  certain  number  of  cloaks  before  each  girl 
with  a  savage  energy,  which  seemed  to  say,  "  If  you  do  not 
hurry,  I  will  apply  the  lash." 

Every  one  of  the  girls  shrank  each  time  the  sweater 
approached  them,  as  if  he  actually  had  a  whip  in  his  hand. 
No  matter  if  the  fingers  bled,  no  matter  if  the  poor  heads 
ached,  no  matter  if  a  woman  were  faint  from  starvation, 
imposed  upon  herself  that  her  children  might  have  a  little 
more  to  eat,  there  was  no  mercy,  nor  even  the  semblance 
of  compassion.  To  see  men  and  women  worn  to  exhaustion 
by  grinding  toil  was  so  common  a  sight  for  the  sweater, 
that  he  no  longer  appreciated  the  horrible  indignity,  the 
immense  pathos  of  it. 

And  so  it  is  that  a  glut  in  the  labor  market  can  make 
brutes  of  men,  and  slaves  of  the  weaklings  whom  they  have 
the  cunning  to  employ. 

This  sweater  manufacturer  paid  the  most  wretched  of 
wages,  because  he  had  no  contracts.  He  bought  cloth  at 
bankrupt  sales,  and  got  great  bargains.  He  paid  workers 
thirty-five  cents  per  piece  when  other  sweaters  gave  sev 
enty-live  ;  and  when  his  goods  were  finished  he  had  them 


GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS  155 

peddled  from  door  to  door  among  the  large  dealers,  until 
some  one  would  take  the  lot. 

When  trade  Avas  slack,  or  he  had  a  considerable  stock  of 
unsold  goods  on  hand,  he  became  a  veritable  demon.  At 
the  least  infringement  of  his  beggarly  regulations,  he 
frothed  at  the  mouth  with  rage.  He  spat  in  the  faces  of 
the  old  men  who  protested  that  they  could  not  do  their 
tasks.  He  threw  one  poor  old  fellow  down-stairs  for  com 
ing  to  bring  his  daughter  a  few  apples  and  a  cracked  pot 
full  of  coffee  at  noontide.  He  drove  a  dozen  operators 
from  the  place  in  one  day,  because  they  had  arranged  with 
an  ancient  dame  to  bring  them  a  warm  dinner,  which  they 
were  to  eat  in  their  places  at  their  machines.  In  vain  did 
they  remonstrate  and  protest  that  they  must  eat  or  die. 
"  They  could  take  their  own  time  over  their  suppers,"  he 
said,  "  but  they  should  not  waste  his."  This  to  the  wage- 
workers  ;  and  to  piece-workers  he  was  almost  equally  tyran 
nical.  "  Let  them  know  what  comfort  is,  and  they  will 
desert  me  in  a  body,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  he  was  right. 

There  was  an  ominous  silence  in  the  sweater's  rooms  on 
this  hot  and  stifling  day ;  and  it  made  the  sweater's  nerves 
tingle  just  a  little  with  fear.  His  treatment  of  Shiphrah 
had  aroused  a  dangerous  desire  for  revolt — a  feeling 
which  as  yet  none  of  the  poor  over-worked  creatures  dared 
openly  to  manifest,  but  which  was  as  full  of  perilous  possi 
bilities  as  the  lava  fire  when  it  froths  up  to  the  rim  of 
a  volcano's  crater. 

Shiphrah  was  heavily  in  the  sweater's  debt:  he  alone 
had  supplied  the  money  without  which  she  would  have  died 
after  her  heart-breaking  experience  with  her  cowardly 
lover ;  and  when  he  found  that  there  was  no  way  of  getting 
it  back  from  that  lover  himself,  he  had  turned  in  fury  upon 
the  girl,  and  had  cried  :  — 

"You  shall  never  leave  this  place  until  you  have  worked 


15G  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

out  every  penny  that  you  owe.  And  if  any  one  who  sews 
here  ventures  to  tell  old  Manasseh  where  his  daughter  is, 
before  she  has  paid  her  debt  to  me,  I  will  throw  the  tale 
teller  into  the  street." 

This  would  have  been  an  idle  injunction  if  given  to  a 
company  of  independent  American  workmen  and  women. 
But  to  the  shrinking  and  affrighted  group  of  refugees  and 
exiles,  who  had  scarcely  recovered  from  the  shock  of  their 
summary  expulsion  from  Russia,  and  who  felt  completely 
helpless  in  this  strange  and  new  land,  the  command  and 
the  menace  were  very  effective  indeed. 

Not  one  of  the  slaving  and  .starving  cloakmakers  em 
ployed  in  this  horrible  den  had  dared  to  hint  outside  that 
Shiphrah  was  held  in  bondage  worse  than  their  own.  For 
that  matter,  many  of  them  had  never  heard  Shiphrah's 
whole  story,  and  were  little  likely  to  see  or  hear  of  old 
Manasseh. 

But  at  last  the  three  girls  who  had  known  Shiphrah  in 
happier  days  had  strayed  into  the  establishment ;  had  told 
the  story  to  Ben  Zion  in  the  "  Pig  Market ;  "  and  the 
secret  which  the  sweater  fancied  safely  kept  had  gone 
straight  to  the  hearing  of  the  man  whom  lie  really  dreaded 
most  of  all,  —  the  redoubtable  Joseph. 

It  happened  that  as  the  hot  forenoon  wore  away  one  of 
the  Polish  girls,  who  was  so  faint  that  she  could  scarcely 
ply  her  needle,  took  from  a  little  bundle  a  tiny  earthen  coffee 
pot,  in  which  there  remained  a  cupful  of  bitter  liquid  unwor 
thy  the  name  of  the  famous  Arabian  beverage. 

Glancing  around  with  fear  in  her  eye,  the  girl  advanced 
her  thin  arm,  and  placed  the  little  pot  on  the  stove. 

At  that  time  the  sweater  was  in  the  inner  room,  cursing 
an  operator  whose  work  was  not  done  to  his  satisfaction. 
The  girl  had  managed  to  get  the  coffee  warmed  before  the 
monster's  return,  and  holding  the  coffee-pot  in  her  lap,  was 


GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS  157 

exploring  her  bundle  in  search  of  a  cup,  when  she  heard 
the  tyrant's  voice  angrily  raised. 

In  her  nervousness  she  sprang  up,  overturning  the  coffee 
upon  the  cloak  in  her  lap,  scalding  her  limbs,  and  uttering 
a  shriek,  which  brought  the  sweater  to  her  side  with  an 
ugly  glare  in  his  eyes. 

When  he  saw  what  had  occurred,  he  snatched  the  gar 
ment  from  the  girl  and  struck  her  twice,  brutally,  over  the 
head  with  it. 

One  of  the  buttons  raised  a  livid  scar  on  the  poor  crea 
ture's  cheek. 

She  stood  panting,  mute,  chilled  to  the  heart  by  this 
insolent  cruelty,  but  with  a  desire  for  vengeance  growing 
in  her  heart,  and  filling  her  with  a  fury  almost  too  great  for 
expression. 

Yet  at  last  she  clasped  her  hands  and  wept  and  cried 
aloud.  The  earthen  coffee-pot  fell  to  the  floor,  was  shat 
tered,  and  the  poor  girls  near  by  set  up  a  sympathetic 
wail. 

The  sweater's  face  grew  white,  but  his  eyes  blazed  with 
passion.  He  advanced  toward  the  girl  again,  flourishing 
the  heavy  cloak,  as  if  he  meant  to  strike  her  down  to  the 
earth  with  it. 

Shiphrah  could  not  endure  this  spectacle.  She  sprang 
forward  and  implored  the  sweater  not  to  strike. 

But  the  brute  in  the  man  was  now  thoroughly  aroused. 
He  pushed  Shiphrah  aside,  and,  roaring  with  fury,  struck 
the  culprit  again. 

"I'll  teach  you,"  he  cried,  "to  come  breaking  up  all  the 
discipline  of  my  place  with  your  swineries." 

This  time  the  girl  stood  quite  still,  with  the  pallor  of 
death  upon  her  gaunt  face.  A  thin  stream  of  blood  trickled 
from  one  of  her  nostrils,  and  the  tears  coursed  slowly  down 
her  cheeks. 


158  JOSEPH   ZALMONAU 

She  raised  her  brow  slightly,  as  if  inviting  and  expecting 
the  next  blow,  which  should  finish  her  martyrdom. 

"  Stop,  neighbor  ! "  suddenly  cried  a  loud,  clear  voice 
which  made  the  sweater  lower  his  hand  and  look  confus 
edly  around  him.  "  Have  you  forgotten  the  good  old  Jew 
ish  proverb,  '  God  counts  woman's  tears  '  ?  " 

Then  arose  a  humming  and  whispering  and  tittering, 
interspersed  with  cries  of  indignation,  and  one  or  two 
threats.  The  sweater  instinctively  felt  that  unless  he 
made  some  authoritative  move  instantly  he  would  find  him 
self  face  to  face  with  a  revolt. 

He  turned  angrily  to  see  who  had  ventured  to  intrude. 

The  new-comer  was  Ben  Zion,  with  whom  the  sweater 
had  a  slight  acquaintance.  The  pedler  held  in  one  hand 
a  long  pole  garnished  with  two  or  three  hoops,  from  which 
hung  "pretzels"  in  various  stages  of  staleness.  In  the 
other  he  carried  a  huge  jug;  over  his  shoulder  was  a  pack, 
from  which  came  a  not  unmusical  clinking  of  tinware. 

At  sight  of  the  sweater's  inflamed  features,  and  his  eyes 
in  which  murder  was  written,  Ben  Zion  grinned,  and  made 
a  mock  obeisance,  remarking,  — 

"  Sorry  to  interfere  in  a  family  difficulty,  as  the  bear 
said  when  he  ate  the  moujik  who  was  beating  his  wife,  but 
I  thought  the  good  people  up  here  might  like  a  few  mouth- 
fuls  of  lunch.  Now,  these  pretzels  "  — 

And  he  extended  the  pole,  so  that  its  point  almost  touched 
the  irate  sweater  in  the  face,  and  effectually  prevented  him 
from  striking  another  blow. 

"  Get  out  with  your  miserable  trash  !  Do  you  want  to 
poison  my  people  ?  "yelled  the  sweater.  "  Haven't  I  given 
strict  orders  that  no  begging  pedlers  were  to  come  into  my 
place  ?  Out  with  you  ! " 

"  Oh  !  A  little  minute  ! "  said  Ben  Zion  caressingly. 
"  Why,  I've  only  just  come  in  !  And  really,  when  it  comes 


GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS  150 

to  choose  between  being  poisoned,  and  beaten  to  death,  I 
don't  suppose  that  your  cherished  employes  " — 

The  maddened  sweater  hurled  the  cloak  from  his  hand  at 
Ben  Zion.  But  the  garment  fell  upon  the  red-hot  stove, 
where  it  was  scorched  crisp,  at  which  a  yell  of  triumph  at 
the  sweater's  discomfiture  arose  from  the  seven  or  eight 
operators  watching  the  scene. 

Ben  Zion  had  raised  his  pole,  but  he  brought  it  down 
again  so  adroitly  that  it  served  as  a  barrier  to  keep  the 
sweater  from  the  corner  in  which  Shiphrah  and  the  poor 
Polish  girl  were  cowering  and  expecting  to  be  cast  out  of 
the  workshop  by  the  sweater's  brutal  hands. 

"  Why,  there's  the  pretty  Shiphrah,  after  whom  her  old 
father  has  been  hunting  so  long  !  "  said  Ben  Zion,  assuming 
an  air  of  intense  surprise,  and  at  the  same  time  winking  and  ' 
grimacing  in  his  endeavor  to  convey  to  Shiphrah  that  he  was 
a-  friend. 

"  O  my  father  !  "  cried  the  girl,  springing  forward.  "  Is 
he  alive  ?  Does  he  hate  my  very  name  ?  I  wish  I  might 
go  to  him,  and  pray  him  to  forgive  me ! " 

"  So  you  shall,  pretty  one  !  so  you  shall  !  "  said  Ben  Zion, 
cautiously  setting  down  his  jug,  and  slipping  his  pack  from 
his  back.  And  as  the  sweater  tried  to  rush  forward  to 
Shiphrah,  Ben  Zion  suddenly  gripped  the  pole  with  both 
hands,  and  tapped  the  sweater's  head  pretty  smartly 
with  it. 

"  Excuse  the  accident ! "  said  Ben  Zion,  smiling  serenely, 
"but  I  really  must  speak  with  this  young  lady  a  minute. 
And  as  she  and  her  companion  there  seem  positively  faint, 
I  must  offer  them  a  cup  of  this  excellent  coffee  and  a  pret 
zel.  Won't  you  have  a  pretzel  too?"  he  added,  shoving 
the  pole  into  the  sweater's  face  again.  Then,  in  answer  to 
Shiphrah,  he  said,  — 

"  You  shall  see  your  father  to-day.  His  daughter  shall 
not  be  a  slave  anv  Ion  ire  r.  Deliverance  is  at  hand  !  " 


160  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

Ben  Zion  spoke  these  last  words  with  a  fine  melodramatic 
air  ;  then,  stooping  down,  he  brought  forth  from  his  pack 
some  tin  cups,  filled  them  with  coffee  from  the  jug,  and 
plucking  some  pretzels  from  the  hoops,  he  passed  this 
frugal  luncheon  to  the  two  girls,  who  were  too  amazed  to 
refuse. 

"  By  your  leave  !  "  said  Ben  Zion,  grinning  at  the  sweater, 
•\vhosp  face  was  purple  with  rage.  The  operators  and  seam 
stresses  were  now  all  crowding  into  the  front  room,  laugh 
ing,  whispering,  shaking  their  heads  ominously.  Never 
before  had  so  much  time  been  lost  in  a  sweater's  den  on  the 
East  Side.  The  revolt  was  complete. 

"  Now,  friends,"  said  Ben  Zion,  "  who  says  coffee  and 
pretzels  ?  Only  three  cents  for  each  person  !  You'll  work 
all  the  better  afterwards.  Oh,  never  mind  him !  He'll 
come  round  to  our  way  of  thinking  after  he  has  joined  our 
Union  !  Gome  !  who  buys  ?  " 

"  I'll  discharge  the  first  man  or  woman  who  touches  any 
of  that  trash  !  "  shouted  the  sweater.  "  And  as  for  you," 
shaking  his  fist  at  Ben  Zion,  "get  out  of  this  room,  or  I 
will  send  for  the  police  !  " 

"Do;  and  I'll  give  you  in  charge  for  kidnapping  Shiph- 
rah  !  "  said  Ben  Zion,  pouring  coffee  for  an  operator  who 
had  mustered  up  courage  to  brave  the  sweater.  "  Ah !  you 
are  more  quiet  now  !  We  live  and  learn,  as  the  bear  said 
when  he  was  hunting  for  honey,  and  the  bees  stung  him." 

"  My  father  !  "  moaned  Shiphrah,  suddenly  awakened  to 
new  hopes.  "If  I  could  see  him  once  more  !  " 

"He  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes,"  said  Ben  Zion 
calmly. 

"  Here  !  "  screamed  the  sweater ;  "  I'll  break  every  bone 
in  his  sanctimonious  old  body  if  he  dares  to  come  here. 
And  Shiphrah  shall  not  leave  this  house  until  I  have  been 
paid  my  money,  all  my  money  —  do  you  understand  ?  " 


GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS  161 

His  voice  rose  to  a  shriek  —  the  shriek  of  the  miser  fear 
ing  to  be  deprived  of  his  treasure. 

"  How  is  that,  man  ?  "  said  a  voice  which  made  the  sweater 
more  frantic  than  before.  "  Is  this  a  debtors'  prison,  or  a 
workshop  ?  Do  I  hear  that  you  are  keeping  women  here 
against  their  will  ?  " 

Everybody  gazed  at  the  entrance,  where  stood  Joseph, 
with  Malcha  leaning  on  his  arm,  and  old  Manasseh  bending 
over  his  staff,  and  looking  like  a  prophet  of  doom. 

"  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want  ?  "  snarled  the 
sweater,  his  eyes  dilating  like  those  of  a  wild  beast  at  bay. 

"  I  am  the  representative  of  the  Cloakmakers'  Union," 
answered  Joseph  calmly,  but  drawing  himself  up,  and  mak 
ing  the  downward  sweeping  gesture  which  always  compelled 
attention  to  his  speeches.  "And  I  want  to  know  how  it  is* 
that  when  we  are  engaged  in  a  life-and-death  struggle  with 
the  manufacturers,  your  place  is  open,  and  you  are  driving 
your  employes  harder  than  ever  ?  Perhaps  you  can  answer 
me  that." 

The  sweater  felt  shivers  of  rage  sweep  over  him.  The 
dreaded  Joseph  was  here,  and  had  doubtless  brought  revolt 
in  his  train.  He  must  act  quickly  against  him. 

"I  know  nothing  about  your  Union,  or  you  either,"  he 
said  rudely.  "  And  I  give  you  notice  that  if  you  come  a 
step  farther  into  my  shop  you'll  rue  it !  " 

As  he  spoke  he  advanced  hastily  to  the  stove,  the  sides 
of  which  were  ruddy  with  intense  heat,  and  seized  a  huge 
flat-iron  from  its  top,  shouting,  — 

"  Out  with  you,  or  I'll  mark  you  for  life  ! " 

Joseph  looked  at  the  maddened  man  sternly  as  he  an 
swered,  — 

"  We  shall  see  who  will  go  out  first  !  " 

At  that  moment  a  lithe  form  brushed  past  the  sweater, 
and  sprang  into  the  arms  of  old  Manasseh.  Shiphrah  had 


162  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

found  her  father  again.  Malcha  withdrew  with  the  girl 
and  her  father  into  a  corner  of  the  darkened  landing,  and 
the  three  quietly  awaited  the  victory  which  they  knew 
would  be  Joseph's. 

"  Out,  I  say,  or  I'll  brand  you  !  "  howled  the  sweater. 

The  operators  and  the  women  were  huddled  together, 
gazing  almost  reverently  at  Joseph,  of  whose  prowess  as  a 
popular  leader  they  had  heard.  Some  of  the  women  were 
muttering  prayers. 

Joseph's  face  shone  with  excitement.  "  Coward  !  "  he 
said  to  the  sweater.  "  It  is  men  like  you  who  make  it  so 
hard  for  our  people  to  rise  !  But  you  shall  tyrannize  over 
these  poor  men  and  women  no  longer." 

The  sweater  concentrated  all  his  malice,  and  hurled  the 
hot  iron  with  tremendous  force  straight  at  Joseph's  head. 
But  at  the  next  moment  he  received  such  a  thrust  from  Ben 
Zion's  pole  that  he  nearly  lost  his  senses,  and  when  he 
could  breathe  and  see  again,  he  noticed  that  his  missile 
had  done  no  harm,  and  that  Joseph  was  standing  over  him, 
white  and  stern. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  said  Joseph.  "  Shiphrah  shall  go  to  her 
father,  and  in  time  what  she  owes  you  shall  be  paid.  But 
don't  try  to  keep  her  now,  or  you  may  be  torn  in  pieces. 
And  now,  brethren  and  sisters,"  he  cried,  turning  to  the 
astonished  workers,  "the  Cloakmakers'  Union  will  inarch 
to  Freier  and  Monach's  at  four  o'clock.  Will  you  join  us  ? 
Will  you  strike  for  freedom  ?  or  will  you  let  this  ruffian 
bully  you  ?  " 

••  We  will  march  —  we  will  go  with  you  !"  shouted  the 
operators,  and  the  women  also  feebly  assented.  Then  they 
poured  out  of  the  shop,  leaving  the  sweater  and  Joseph 
face  to  face. 

"Follow  them!"  commanded  Joseph,  "and  let  me  see 
you  in  the  line  of  march  at  four  o'clock,  or  it  will  be  the 
worse  for  you  !  " 


GOD  COUNTS  WOMAN'S  TEARS  163 

"Never  !  "  snarled  the  sweater,  foaming  with  rage. 

"  Follow  them  ! "  cried  Joseph  in.  a  deeper  voice,  and 
pointing  to  the  door. 

This  time  the  sweater  yielded,  and  he  slunk  out  of  his 
own  shop,  and  went  timidly  past  Ben  Zion,  who  stood  on 
guard  with  the  pretzel  pole  at  the  door,  and  crawled  timidly 
down  the  dark  stairways. 

Meantime,  Shiphrah  was  sobbing  upon  old  Manasseh's 
breast. 


164  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   HUNGER   PROMENADE 

SHIPHRAH  would  have  knelt  at  Joseph's  feet  and  kissed 
the  hem  of  his  coat  with  veritable  biblical  fervor.  But 
the  young  leader  would  not  permit  it. 

Malcha  took  the  girl  away  to  her  house,  old  Manasseh 
hobbling  after,  and  muttering  many  pious  phrases  expres 
sive  of  his  joy. 

Joseph  and  Ben  Zion  remained  upon  the  field  of  battle. 

"  Are  you  aware,"  said  Ben  Zion,  flourishing  the  pretzel 
pole  as  if  it  bore  a  triumphal  banner  at  its  summit,  "  that 
this  is  the  Fourth  of  July,  the  anniversary  of  the  great 
day  when  the  Americans  dictated  a  peace,  on  the  shores  of 
England,  to  the  king  who  was  trying  to  enslave  them  ? 
They  sailed  over  there,  I'm  told,  and  scattered  the  fleets  of 
England  and  France,  and  then  made  a  proclamation  of  In 
dependence,  which  they  still  repeat  after  their  prayers. 
When  was  it?  Many  hundreds  of  years  ago,  I'll  be 
bound ! " 

"Not  so  very  many,"  answered  Joseph,  with  a  quiet 
smile  at  Ben  Zion's  distortion  of  the  historical  facts, 
which  he  himself  could  not  have  stated  with  absolute 
accuracy ;  "  not  so  very  long  ago  but  that  they  are  still 
much  in  love  with  their  own  independence,  and  care 
precious  little  about  anybody  else's.  Fourth  of  July,  in 
deed  !  And  our  six  or  seven  thousand  hungry  devils  are 


THE   HUNGER   PROMENADE  165 

going  to  parade,  just  to  show  these  well-fed,  independent 
citizens  how  wretched  we  are !  It  makes  my  heart  ache." 

'•Don't  grumble,  Joseph  Zalmonah,"  said  Ben  Zion. 
"  Think  of  the  nice  lump  of  money  that  the  newspapers 
raised  for  the  Union !  Where  should  we  have  been  with 
out  that,  for  the  last  day  or  two,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  True,"  said  Joseph,  "  I  don't  mean  to  complain  ;  but  if 
anything  is  galling,  it  is  to  be  poor  in  the  midst  of  plenty. 
But  come,  we  have  no  longer  any  right  here  —  hark  !  what 
was  that  yell  ?  " 

"  It  sounded  like  the  cry  that  Levi  Obermann  gave  the 
day  they  threw  him  out  of  the  synagogue  —  you  remem 
ber  ;  the  contractor !  They  nearly  tore  the  poor  fellow  in 
pieces  !  Halt  there  !  "  he  cried,  lowering  his  pretzel  pole 
like  a  lance  at  rest. 

The  sweater  rushed  across  the  darkened  landing,  dodged 
Ben  Zion,  and  threw  himself  at  Joseph's  feet,  cowering 
like  a  whipped  dog.  "  They  will  kill  me  ! "  he  whimpered. 
"  Don't  make  me  go  out  there  alone  !  Go  with  me,  or  they 
will  tear  mo  in  pieces  ! " 

"  And  they  would  not  be  far  wrong !  "  growled  Ben  Zion, 
prodding  the  sweater  with  the  pole.  "  Get  up,  you  lump 
of  a  needle-shifter,  and  try  to  be  a  man !  Are  our  fellows 
ready  to  march  ?  " 

"They  are,"  said  the  sweater,  his  teeth  chattering. 
"  What  dreadful  thing  are  they  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Get  up ! "  repeated  Ben  Zion,  seizing  the  sweater  by  the 
collar,  "  or,  by  the  bones  of  Abraham  !  I'll  iron  you  with 
your  own  flat-irons  !  Join  the  procession,  and  ask  no  ques 
tions,  as  the  ant  said  to  the  elephant  when  they  went  into 
the  ark.  Your  life  is  safe  enough  under  the  protection  of 
our  Union.  And  yet,  only  an  hour  ago  you  were  fighting 
against  it ! " 

" '  Our  Union,' "  said  the  reassured  sweater,  with  a  twin- 


1G6  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

kle  in  his  eye  ;  "  I  thought  you  were  a  pedler.  And  wh.it 
are  you  doing  in  the  Cloakmakers'  Union  ?  " 

"I  —  oh  — I  am  just  a  deputy  to  keep  the  fools  in  or 
der,"  stammered  Ben  Zion,  who  had  found  the  question  a 
little  confusing ;  "  so  get  along  with  you,  and  don't  so  much 
as  dare  to  look  at  Herr  Joseph,  here,  or  he  may  not  let  you 
join  us.  And  then  your  goose  certainly  would  be  cooked." 

It  was  at  least  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  Ben  Zion's 
arguments,  kicks,  and  proddings  with  the  pretzel  pole 
could  persuade  the  sweater  to  accompany  him  to  the  street. 
When  at  last  they  came  into  the  little  square  in  front  of 
the  house,  they  found  Joseph,  who  had  preceded  them,  try 
ing  to  reason  with  a  mob  of  women  who  had  heard  the 
story  of  Shiphrah's  detention,  and  wanted  to  lynch  the 
sweater  before  starting  on  this  " hunger  parade." 

Public  sympathy,  as  the  kind-hearted  policeman  had  told 
Joseph,  needed  but  to  be  aroused  to  yield  goodly  fruit ;  and 
little  sums  had  found  their  way  to  the  Union's  treasury, 
and  made  the  cloakmakers  more  resolved  than  ever  to  fight 
the  lock-out  to  the  bitter  end. 

The  manufacturers  had  set  non-Union  men  at  work  in 
some  of  their  establishments,  and  boasted  that  all  the 
power  of  New  York's  authority  would  be  on  their  side  if 
these  men  were  attacked.  Therefore  it  had  been  deemed 
expedient  that  the  starving  cloakmakers,  who  had  been 
thrust  from  their  places  because  they  dared  to  protest 
against  an  infamous  scale  of  wages,  and  as  substitutes  for 
whom  the  non-Union  men  had  been  employed,  should 
promenade  in  a  body,  and  still  further  enlist  the  pity  of  the 
citizens  of  the  metropolis. 

Joseph  did  not  approve  of  this ;  it  jarred  upon  his  sense 
of  independence.  And  yet,  in  his  heart,  he  admitted  that 
it  was  adroit  and  practical ;  and  at  the  last  moment  he  had 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  procession.  He  had 


THE    HUNGER   PROMENADE  167 

halted  the  motley  company  before  the  sweater's,  that  he 
might  do  justice  in  the  case  of  Shiphrah  ;  and  now  he  was 
ready  to  march. 

"  On  to  Freier  and  Monach's  !  to  Freier  and  Monach's  ! " 
screamed  the  women.  "Let  them  see  how  starved  we 
look." 

"  Yes,"  snarled  an  old  crone ;  "  and  if  they  laugh  at  us 
we'll  tear  them  limb  from  limb,  won't  we,  darlings  ?" 

"  Limb  from  limb !  "  came  back  the  answer  in  a  shrill 
chorus,  which  made  Joseph  turn  pale.  He  knew  that  the 
women  would  fulfil  their  threat,  if  they  had  even  slight 
provocation. 

A  tootling  band,  lent  for  the  occasion  by  a  friendly  labor 
organization,  struck  up  the  "Marseillaise,"  which  the  throng 
did  not  recognize  ;  but  when  it  played  one  or  two  German 
airs,  the  starving  people  showed  some  little  animation,  and 
stepped  out  as  if  they  were  going  to  take  a  new  Bastile. 

The  sweater  marched  unmolested,  and  a  dozen  of  the 
workers  who  had  just  rebelled  against  his  tyranny  were 
close  behind  him. 

The  day  was  intensely  hot  and  airless.  The  ill-kept 
streets  steamed  with  rank  odors.  The  tall  gaunt  buildings 
seemed  to  sweat  like  the  populace. 

The  throng  was  much  smaller  than  that  which  had  accom 
panied  Joseph  to  the  landlord  to  demand  justice  for 
Mother  Levitsky.  But  in  the  glaring  light  of  the  summer 
day  it  seemed  more  hideous,  gaunt,  and  dreadful  than  the 
company  of  the  night  march. 

A  thousand  women,  hundreds  of  them  with  puny,  wailing 
infants  in  their  arms,  headed  the  line.  The  misery  of 
these  poor  creatures  was  appalling.  They  were  walking 
skeletons.  Their  almost  fleshless  yellow  faces;  their  fierce, 
staring  eyes;  their  matted  locks;  their  ragged  garments, 
which  scarcely  covered  them  decently ;  the  way  in  which 


168  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

they  clutched  their  starving  infants  ;  the  strident  laughter 
with  which  they  hailed  appeals  for  moderation  and  com 
promise  in  case  they  visited  the  manufacturers'  premises  — 
all  were  terrible. 

There  were  women  who  had  nursing  children  at  the 
breast,  and  who  had  tasted  nothing  but  a  little  coffee  for 
two  days.  They  flourished  their  lean  arms ;  they  wagged 
their  swollen  tongues ;  they  danced  hysterically,  and  prof 
fered  dreadful  threats  of  vengeance. 

The  streets  rang  with  the  uncouth  echoes  of  the  "  jargon." 

Meantime  the  men,  less  talkative,  but  equally  angry  and 
inflamed,  dragged  their  weak  limbs  along.  Some  shivered 
in  spite  of  the  intense  heat ;  others  were  sunstruck,  and 
had  to  be  revived  in  the  friendly  shade  of  doorways ;  all 
clamored  for  water.  Old  men  trudged  on,  munching  bits 
of  black  bread  between  their  toothless  jaws.  The  younger 
operators  had  dressed  themselves  neatly  for  the  occa 
sion,  but  the  fierce  heat  had  prompted  them  to  take  off 
coats  and  waistcoats ;  and  long  before  they  reached  Freier 
and  Monach's,  they  were  reeking  with  perspiration,  and  as 
dishevelled  as  the  women. 

They  came  at  last  to  the  hated  manufacturers,  the  head 
and  front  of  the  lock-out,  the  arch  enemy  of  their  Union, 
and  they  set  up  a  fierce  yell.  Most  of  them  were  ignorant 
that  the  Fourth  of  July  is  a  national  holiday ;  but  those 
who  knew  it  felt  certain  that  the  tyrants  would  have  some 
one  on  hand  to  represent  them  and  protect  their  property. 

Joseph  halted  his  starving  company,  with  strict  injunc 
tions  to  make  no  attack  on  Freier  and  Monach's,  and  to 
await  his  return.  "  There  will  be  no  '  scabs  '  at  work  there 
to-day,"  he  said.  "  Besides,  we  must  hear  what  the  firm 
has  to  say." 

"Tear them  limb  from  limb,"  shrieked  the  women  ;  but  it 
was  evident  that  they  would  respect  Joseph's  admonition. 


THE   HUNGER   PROMENADE  169 

So  lie  assembled  his  committee — the  identical  one  which 
Freier  and  Monach  had  so  badly  treated  on  the  previous 
visit,  and  applied  for  admission. 

They  got  in  without  difficulty.  Freier  and  Monach  were 
both  there,  writing  busily,  and  smoking  huge  black  cigars. 
Joseph  was  a  little  astonished  to  see  Freier  jump  up  and 
come  forward  with  much  cordiality  of  demeanor.  "  Look 
here,  Zalmonah  ! "  he  said  in  German,  "  call  off  your  fellows 
out  there.  We  don't  want  any  disturbance,  and  things  may 
all  come  round  right  yet.  Come  with  your  committee  and 
see  us  to-morrow  about  this  hour.  There's  a  good  fellow. 
Say  to  your  cloakmakers  that  it  will  all  be  right  —  to-morrow 
—  arrange,  you  understand  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say  I  do,"  said  Joseph.  "  Your  last  message 
was  one  of  war.  Now  you  are  as  peaceful  as  moonlight. 
What  assurance  can  I  give  "  — 

"  Your  army  out  there  ?  "  said  Freier,  laughing  uneasily. 
"  Oil,  tell  them  that  you  are  arranging  the  matter." 

While  he  was  talking  he  had  edged  away  from  the  gaping 
members  of  the  committee,  holding  Joseph  by  the  arm,  and 
had  managed  to  get  him  into  a  little  recess  behind  a  table. 
Here  he  said  to  Joseph  in  a  hurried  whisper,  — 

"  And,  say,  Zalmonah,  you  are  a  man  of  sense,  and  I've 
heard  that  you  wish  to  perfect  your  education.  Now,  if 
you  will  drop  all  this  labor  business,  I'll  be  your  banker  as 
long  as  you  like,  and  will  write  you  a  check  for  five  thou 
sand  dollars  any  time  you  ask  for  it.  Come !  Choose  be 
tween  that  out  there  "  (indicating  the  waiting  cloakmakers) 
"  and  this  good  offer.  Accept,  and  you  will  find  plenty  of 
friends." 

Joseph  put  out  his  hands  quickly,  and  thrust  the  tempter 
violently  away  from  him. 

Thinking  that  he  was  about  to  be  attacked,  the  members 
of  the  committee  rushed  forward. 


170  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

But  Joseph  stayed  them  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

Then  he  gave  Freier  a  look  of  blazing  indignation,  which 
turned  the  man  white  with  apprehension. 

"We  will  not  come  here  to-morrow,"  lie  said;  "you  need 
not  expect  us.  When  we  are  ready  we  will  come  back  for 
our  final  answer  about  the  close  of  the  lock-out.  And  I 
would  advise  you  not  to  renew  then  the  proposition  which 
you  have  just  made  to  me.  If  you  should  do  so,  I  would 
hand  you  over  to  that  crowd  there  yonder,  and  it  would  tear 
you  into  shoe-strings  !  " 

"You  are  an  insolent  beast,  and  I  will  have  you  put  whore 
you  can't  talk  so  much!"  said  Freier  through  his  clenched 
teeth.  "  You  think  you  can  come  here  and  dictate  to  us 
Americans  ! " 

Joseph  snapped  his  fingers  in  Freier's  face.  "  That  for 
your  threats  ! "  he  said.  "  Perhaps  we  shall  soon  find  out 
who  is  master  in  this  business.  Good-day." 

"  I  defy  you ! "  said  Freier.     "  We  Americans  "  — 

"  Oh,  come,"  cried  Joseph,  "your  American  citizenship  is 
too  new  to  brag  about.  There  are  men  in  the  procession  out 
there  who  are  better  American  citizens  than  you  are." 

He  stalked  out  with  the  committee  at  his  heels,  and 
thus  the  second  meeting  with  Freier  ended  like  the  first,  in 
anger  and  unfruitfulness. 

"  He  tried  to  bribe  me  ! "  said  Joseph  in  a  choking  voice, 
as  he  returned  to  the  head  of  the  hungry  company.  "  Let 
him  alone  to-day  !  Come  along  to  Broadway  !" 

And  to  Broadway  they  went.  Thousands  of  promenad 
ing  citizens  were  startled  by  the  passage  of  this  melancholy 
throng  of  tottering  men,  a,nd  tattered  women  with  skinny 
children  in  their  arms.  They  looked  witli  astonishment  on 
this  sudden  apparition  of  Misery  in  the  very  centre  of 
prosperity.  It  alarmed  and  enlightened  them.  When  the 
cloakmakers  tottered  home  that  night,  almost  despairing, 
they  had  won  a  host  of  supporters. 


THE    HUNGER    PROMENADE  171 

At  the  office  of  the  Union  Joseph  found  t\vo  hundred 
dollars  in  crisp  bills,  "the  product  of  a  collection  down 
town,"  awaiting  his  arrival. 

He  sent  out  trusty  messengers  to  distribute  this  far  and 
wide  among  the  starving  ones,  and  then  went  home  and 
threw  himself  down  on  his  bed,  feeling  strangely  hopeful 
that  the  lock-out  would  soon  end.  Malcha  and  the 
child,  as  he  learned  from  a  note,  were  at  old  Manasseh's 
with  Shiphrah. 

Joseph  was  just  falling  into  an  uneasy  slumber  in  the 
hot  and  ill-ventilated  room,  when  there  came  a  timid  knock 
at  the  door.  At  first  he  was  disinclined  to  answer  it ;  but 
finally,  fearing  lest  it  might  be  the  news  of  some  new  dis 
turbance  among  the  cloakmakers,  he  arose  and  groped  his 
way  wearily  to  the  door,  threw  it  open,  and  found  him 
self  face  to  face  with  Rudolf  Baumeister. 

At  sight  of  the  nervous  features  of  that  energetic  con 
spirator,  Joseph  could  not  repress  a  frown.  But  Baumeis 
ter  saluted  him  so  politely,  and  seemed  so  anxious  to  enter 
into  conversation,  that  Joseph  rubbed  his  eyes  and  mut 
tered, — 

"  Well,  Herr  Baumeister,  what  is  it  ?  Has  your  revolu 
tion  begun  ?  Is  Society  turned  inside  out,  and  have  you 
come  to  call  me  to  see  the  remains  ?  " 

"  Zalmonah,"  said  the  man  in  a  tremulous  tone,  "  we  are 
on  the  eve  of  great  things.  The  time  is  ripe  for  revolt. 
The  harvest  awaits  the  reapers.  I  have  come  to  ask  you 
to  thrust  in  your  sickle  with  the  rest  of  us.  Don't  send  me 
away  as  you  did  before.  Join  us,  arid  work  with  us  at 
the  grand  overturning  !  " 

Joseph  felt  inclined  to  shut  the  door  in  Baumeister's 
face.  But  weary  as  he  himself  was,  and  in  deadly  earnest 
though  Baumeister  certainly  was,  he  could  not  help  ap 
preciating  the  humor  of  the  occasion. 


172  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

"  Come  in,"  he  said ;  "  and  before  I  make  any  decision 
about  joining,  I  should  like  to  know  what  you  propose  to 
overturn,  and  how  many  of  you  there  are  to  overturn  it." 

"  Always  satirical,  Herr  Joseph,"  said  Baumeister, 
entering  slowly,  and  leaning  against  the  blackened  wall  of 
the  kitchen  chimney  and  breathing  hard.  "Let  me  sit 
down,  please ;  my  head  feels  heavy." 

"  You  look  white  and  faint,"  said  Joseph  kindly.  "  Let 
me  give  you  a  glass  of  tea,  if  we  have  any  left." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bauraeister,  with  an  odd  little  laugh,  "  I  am 
as  weak  as  one  of  your  poor  locked-out  creatures.  The 
fact  is  that  I  have  not  tasted  solid  food  for  two  days.  I 
haven't  felt  like  eating ;  and  it  makes  my  head  turn  round 
—  you  know  the  feeling." 

Joseph  looked  at  him  attentively.  He  gave  Baumeister 
a  chair  at  the  little  kitchen  table.  Then  he  placed  on  it 
a  wooden  platter  on  which  was  a  small  loaf  of  bread  and  a 
fried  fish. 

"  When  you  have  eaten  we  can  talk,"  he  said  gravely. 

Baumeister  thanked  him  faintly,  and  began  eating  with 
an  apparently  voracious  appetite,  saying  between  the 
mouthfuls, — 

"  I  often  get  out  of  money,  you  see,  when  I  am  fol 
lowing  an  idea ;  and  I  won't  beg.  I  wait.  Sometimes  it 
is  hard  work  this  waiting,  when  you  are  hungry  "  — 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  know  something  about  that,"  said  Joseph 
dryly. 

He  was  watching  Baumeister  narrowly,  for  he  suspected 
some  conspiracy.  His  first  thought  was  that  the  Socialist 
had  been  drinking.  But  presently  he  saw  that  the  un 
steady  flame  in  his  eyes,  the  slight  tremor  in  his  muscles, 
the  curious  inflections  in  his  speech,  were  all  the  result  of 
some  recent  profound  excitement.  Was  his  hunger  real  ? 
Or  was  it  a  trick  assumed  to  enlist  Joseph's  sympathies  ? 


THE   HUNGER   PROMENADE  173 

Joseph  suspected  him,  but  pity  arose  to  dull  his  sus 
picions  as  he  saw  the  would-be  overthrower  of  Society 
seated  on.  the  old  wooden  chair,  munching  the  hard  bread. 

"  You  were  speaking  of  overturning,"  he  said  gently, 
when  Batimeister  showed  signs  of  relenting  his  attacks  on 
the  bread  and  fish. 

"  Ah !  Overturn  —  burn  —  destroy  —  and  plant  again  ; 
but  not  the  old  seed  —  no  —  no  —  none  of  that!"  said 
Baumeister  in  a  loud  voice,  rising  hurriedly  and  coming 
quickly  to  Joseph's  side.  "  The  hour  is  at  hand,  Zalmonah. 
That  procession  of  the  hungry  was  a  great  thought,  worthy, 
my  young  friend,  of  your  masterly  mind.  It  has  made  a 
tremendous  sensation.  The  public  is  alarmed.  The  news 
papers  are  talking  about  labor  riots  on  a  grand  scale,  close 
at  hand.  The  capitalists  are  quaking  in  their  palaces! 
What  a  grand  chance  for  the  '  party  of  force ' !  What  a 
moment  for  a  demonstration !  One  push,  and  we  might 
topple  the  whole  wall  down !  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Topple  it 
down,  and  bury  the  fat  carcasses .  of  the  capitalists  under 
it.  Ho,  ho,  ho!  Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

Joseph  stood  listening  to  this  tirade  with  a  contempt 
uous  smile  on  his  lips.  But  there  was  something  so 
strangely  exalted  in  Baumeister's  manner,  that  it  almost 
frightened  him.  The  voice  had  an  unsteady  ring ;  the  ges 
tures  were  almost  grotesque. 

"  The  last  time  you  came  here,  Herr  Baumeister,"  he 
said,  "  I  declined  to  believe  that  we  cannot  win  our  cause 
by  legitimate  methods.  Everything  that  I  have  seen  since 
your  visit  tends  to  confirm  my  belief.  So  that  I  am  as 
little  disposed  as  before  to  go  into  the  overturning  busi-. 
ness,  which  does  not  seem  to  be  giving  you  a  very  good 
living." 

"Never  mind  me  —  my  living,"  stammered  Baumeister  ; 
"  the  cause,  the  cause  is  all !  We  must  have  you  to  help 


174  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

us :  you  are  a  tower  of  strength.  We  are  losing  chances 
daily!  A  few  hours  ago,  at  Washington  Square,  we  might 
have  started  the  great  Social  Revolution  !  Your  proces 
sion  was  a  splendid  pretext  for  beginning.  Make  another 
procession  —  to-morrow  —  dear  Herr  Zalmonah  —  another  — 
and  we  can  in  a  few  hours  be  trampling  capital  under  our 
feet.  The  masses  will  rise  with  us  !  and  the  victory  will 
be  easy  !  You  must  —  you  shall  help  us  to  start  the  Social 
Rev  "  — 

Baumeister  glared  suddenly  at  Joseph.  The  word  "  rev 
olution  "  died  away  on  his  lips.  He  uttered  a  loud  yell, 
and  fell  forward,  foaming  at  the  mouth,  and  breathing 
stertorously,  in  an  epileptic  fit. 

Joseph  felt  a  slight  touch  on  his  arm.  He  turned  and 
saw  Ben  Zion.  "I  saw  him  coming  here,  and  I  followed 
him,"  said  the  pedler,  "  thinking  he  might  be  up  to  some 
mischief.  I'll  bring  him  out  of  that  fit  —  I  know  how. 
My  father's  brother  used  to  have  'em  regular."  And  seat 
ing  himself  astride  the  fallen  Socialist,  he  began  to  bang 
his  insensible  head  against  the  floor. 

"  You  will  kill  him,"  cried  Joseph. 

"  See  !  He's  already  coining  round ! "  said  Ben  Zion  ;  and 
in  another  minute  Baumeister  opened  his  eyes,  his  heavy 
breathing  ceased,  and  he  murmured  as  if  he  had  never 
ceased  speaking,  — 

"  — olution  —  yes,  the  Revolution.  You  shall  help  us 
to  start  it  to-morrow."  Ben  Zion  helped  him  to  a  chair, 
and  Joseph  bathed  his  head  with  water.  "  You  must  have 
got  a  touch  of  the  sun,"  said  Joseph;  "  you  went  down  as 
if  you  had  been  shot." 

But  Baumeister  seemed  to  have  no  knowledge  of  the  fit. 
"Tell  me,"  he  said,  almost  pleadingly,  "  that  I  may  count 
you  among  the  members  of  the  party  of  force  from  this 
moment  henceforth !  Tell  me  that  you  will  co-operate 
with  us  to-morrow  ! " 


THE   HUNGER   PROMENADE  175 

"  You  have  already  had  my  answer  on  that  point,"  said 
Joseph  firmly.  "  Neither  to-morrow  nor  at  any  time.  I 
think  your  Revolution  is  a  dream  —  or  a  madness  !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Baumeister,  looking  up  quickly,  with  a 
startled  smile,  "  you  wish  to  get  rid  of  me,  and  so  you  call 
me  crazy.  It  is  a  poor  argument." 

He  seized  the  tumbler  in  which  some  tea  was  standing, 
and  drank  the  liquid  greedily.  Then  he  arose  slowly, 
gripping  the  glass  so  fiercely  that  it  cracked  to  pieces.  He 
gave  Joseph  a  long,  weird  look,  then  dashed  the  fragments 
of  glass  madly  to  the  floor,  and  shouted  with  great  force,  — 

"  You  will  not  make  the  Revolution  with  us  ?  Very 
well ;  then  we  will  make  it  without  you !  And  look  well  to 
yourselves  if  you  get  in  our  way  ! " 

He  extended  his  hand,  and  shook  it  menacingly  in 
Joseph's  face.  Then  he  picked  up  his  hat  and  went  out, 
staggering  like  a  drunken  man. 

"I'm  afraid  the  heat  has  made  him  mad,"  said  Joseph. 

"  The  work  was  well  begun  before  the  heat  finished  it," 
remarked  Ben  Zion.  Then  he  thrust  his  hand  into  the 
breast-pocket  of  his  faded  coat.  "Here's  a  message.  I 
forgot  it  when  I  saw  that  lunatic  in  his  fit.  A  little  boy 
brought  it  to  me  in  the  market,  and  asked  me  to  get  it  to 
you  post-haste." 

Joseph  tore  open  the  unaddressed  white  envelope,  and 
took  from  it  a  slip  of  paper,  on  which  was  written  in  deli 
cate  Hebrew  script :  — 

"  I  warned  you  once,  but  I  am  afraid  that  you  did  not  take  it  enough 
to  heart.  You  are  in  great  danger.  If  you  do  not  join  Baumeister 
and  his  party  you  must  be  vigilant  and  wary.  Those  men  are  desper 
ate.  I  know  what  they  mean  to  do  if  you  fail  them.  They  think  your 
martyrdom  would  bring  on  the  flurry  that  would  turn  into  revolution. 
You  must  take  a  decision,  and  act.  B." 

A  second  warning  from  Bathsheba !     It  was  lucky  that 


176  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAH 

Ben  Zion's  attention  was  diverted  to  the  safety  of  his  push 
cart  outside;  for  otherwise  he  would  have  seen  Joseph, 
moved  by  a  sudden  passion  which  he  himself  could  not  have 
explained,  press  the  little  missive  to  his  lips,  and  then  hide 
it  carefully  in  an  inner  pocket. 

Ben  Zion  presently  went  away,  and  Joseph  opened  the 
window  of  the  front  room  and  sat  down,  looking  out  over 
the  wretched  world  of  East  Broadway,  where  his  people  were 
making  their  starveling  preparations  for  their  Sabbath. 
There  was  an  ominous  stillness.  People  spoke  in  low  tones, 
and  seemed  preoccupied,  as  when  a  pestilence  is  abroad,  or 
war  or  famine  is  at  hand.  And  when  Malcha  came  home 
an  hour  later,  leading  tired  little  Zipporah,  who  could 
scarcely  prop  her  sleepy  eyes  open,  she  found  Joseph  seated, 
staring  straight  into  space,  as  if  he  saw  signs  and  wonders 
there. 


JOSEPH   AND   BATHSHEBA  177 


CHAPTER  XV 

JOSEPH    AND    BATHSHEBA 

A  WEEK  passed,  and  Joseph  thought  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  that  the  hours  had  leaden  feet.  One  hot,  malodorous 
day  followed  another,  each  bringing  nothing  to  distinguish 
it  from  its  predecessor  save  an  increasing  number  of  deaths 
among  the  famishing  cloakmakers. 

From  time  to  time  Joseph  received  contributions  from 
charitable  persons,  societies,  and  churches.  He  trudged 
about  in  the  heat,  refusing  even  to  take  horse-cars  or  "  L  " 
trains,  in  his  anxiety  to  save  every  penny. 

"  Each  five  cents  may  mean  a  baby's  life — a  poor  mother's 
rescue  from  starvation,"  he  said. 

Of  the  money  he  took  only  his  share.  "  Malcha  and  the 
child  were  not  to  suffer,"  he  said.  "  As  for  myself,  I  like 
suffering.  It  adds  a  kind  of  savor  to  life." 

"  Those  who  have  not  suffered  have  not  truly  lived,"  he 
would  sometimes  say  to  Malcha,  when  he  started  out  in  the 
hot  mornings  to  distribute  his  succor. 

The  cloakmakers  stood  valiantly  to  their  colors ;  but,  as 
j~et,  the  manufacturers,  headed  by  Freier  and  Monach,  gave 
no  sign  of  weakness. 

One  morning  Joseph  went  out  very  early,  to  carry  a  few 
dollars  to  a  family  whose  chief  had  shown  him  the  night 
before  a  "  dispossess  "  notice.  "  If  we  haven't  the  money 
at  nine  o'clock  to-morrow  forenoon,"  he  had  said,  "  out  we 


178  JOSEPH   ZALMONAIT 

go  on  to  the  pavement.  My  wife  is  already  sick  with  the 
hunger-fever.  You  know  what  putting  us  out  would  mean." 

As  Joseph  hastened  on  his  errand  of  mercy,  at  the  angle 
of  two  streets  he  met  Freier  face  to  face. 

He  would  have  avoided  him.  But  Freier  smiled,  and 
spread  out  his  arms  in  most  engaging  fashion. 

"  Oh  !  Ah !  Here  is  my  good  friend,  the  enemy  !  "  he 
said,  with  an  effusive  politeness  which  was  maddening  to 
the  poor  labor-leader.  "  I  am  sure  that  he  will  forgive  me 
for  getting  into  a  temper  every  time  we  have  a  conference." 
He  spoke  in  jargon,  but  suddenly  changed  to  English, 
saying,  — 

"  Now,  look  here,  Herr  Zalmonah,  don't  pull  away  from 
me  in  that  angry  fashion  !  I  am  anxious  to  have  the  differ 
ences  between  us  settled  ;  but  your  obstinacy  blocks  every 
thing.  Say,  there's  nothing  in  it  for  you,  if  you  do  win  the 
fight,  don't  you  know  ?  Why  not  give  up  your  share  in 
the  matter,  and  let  the  greasy  devils  take  care  of  them 
selves  ?  " 

The  veins  in  Joseph's  temples  stood  out  in  bold  relief. 

A  strong  color  came  into  his  face.  He  raised  a  warning 
hand.  But  Freier  was  determined  to  be  heard. 

"  Come,  now,  Zalmonah,"  and  his  voice  sank  to  a  whis 
per,  "you  didn't  like  my  proposition  the  other  day.  What 
do  you  say  to  a  trip  to  London,  and  then  to  the  old  coun 
try,  to  Russia,  to  see  your  folks,  and  make  them  a  few  use 
ful  presents  ?  You  need  not  be  gone  more  than  four  months, 
and  by  that  time  all  this  difficulty  will  have  blown  over. 
Say  the  word,  and  I'll  make  the  check  the  same  that  I 
offered  before,  and  sign  it  to-day.  What  does  a  thinker 
like  you  want  with  all  these  labor  brawls  ?  " 

Joseph's  voice  trembled  as  he  said,  "So  you  would  like 
to  send  me  to  Russia,  and  have  me  stopped  at  the  frontier 
by  the  paternal  police,  on  the  ground  that  I  am  a  suspi- 


JOSEPH   AND    BATRSIIEBA  179 

cious  and  revolutionary  person,  eh,  Herr  Freier  ?  I  see 
that  you  persist  in  taking  me  for  a  simpleton.  Once  for 
all,"  he  said,  raising  his  voice  suddenly  almost  to  a  cry, 
"  take  notice  that  I  do  not  accept  bribes  !  I  scorn  and  spit 
upon  them,  and  upon  you  !  And  I  warn  you  not  to  stand 
an  instant  longer  in  my  path  !  " 

The  interview  was  in  the  shadow  of  the  roaring  "L." 
An  Italian  bootblack,  polishing  a  somewhat  decayed  pair 
of  shoes  on  the  capacious  feet  of  a  Spanish  negro,  and 
another  Italian,  busily  engaged  in  brushing  imaginary  flies 
from  an  already  too  thoroughly  fly-specked  stock  of  fruit, 
were  the  only  witnesses  to  the  colloquy.  The  passers-by 
did  not  even  turn  their  heads  to  observe  what  the  shouting 
was  about. 

Freier  moved  aside.  His  face  was  livid  for  an  instant ; 
then  it  became  ghastly  white.  But  he  smiled  an  evil 
smile. 

"  Oh  !  very  well,  Herr  Saint  Joseph  !  "  he  said.  "  If  you 
refuse  all  the  assistance  which  your  friends  offer  you,  you 
must  not  expect  any  sympathy  when  you  come  to  grief ! " 

Joseph  made  a  contemptuous  gesture,  pushed  on,  and 
in  a  minute  was  lost  to  view  in  the  hurrying  throngs. 

"  And  you  will  come  to  grief,  my  fine  fellow  !  "  continued 
Freier,  shaking  his  clenched  fist  in  the  direction  which 
Joseph  had  taken.  "  You  will  come  to  grief  much  sooner 
than  you  imagine.  You  are  rushing  upon  your  fate  now, 
without  knowing  it.  But  a  trip  to  London  !  And  a  chance 
to  talk  to  the  labor-leaders  there !  Who  would  have 
thought  him  strong  enough  to  decline  those  things  ?  I 
see :  we  must  try  heroic  measures  with  him." 

Joseph,  when  the  errand  of  mercy  was  finished,  found 
himself  not  very  far  from  David's  theatre,  and  felt  that  a 
little  conversation  with  the  purveyor  of  plays  and  proverbs 
would  refresh  him. 


180  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

So  he  presently  made  his  way  into  a  sort  of  loft  at  the 
right  of  the  stage,  where  David  had  assembled  the  mem 
bers  of  his  company  around  a  property  throne,  turned  on 
its  side,  and  serving  as  the  table  on  which  was  spread  a 
substantial  lunch  of  bread  and  cheese  and  sausages,  and 
a  jug  of  weak  beer. 

The  company  had  been  rehearsing  a  new  historical 
drama  in  costume ;  and  kings  and  prophets,  shepherds  and 
warriors,  dancing-girls  and  angels,  were  seated  on  piles  of 
canvas  scenery,  munching  contentedly  before  returning  to 
work. 

David  was  fluttering  about,  helping  each  one  to  his  por 
tion,  and  teaching  a  young  girl  how  to  sing  her  role  in 
Hebrew  as  he  cut  bread  and  carved  cheese. 

"  Why  do  you  not  sit  down  with  the  others  ? "  said 
Joseph,  as  he  entered. 

David  gave  him  a  quizzical  look.  "  Don't  you  remember 
what  Rabbi  Juda  said  ?  "  he  queried.  "  It  was  good  advice. 
'Ko  one  should  sit  down  to  his  own  meals  until  all  the 
animals  are  cared  for.'  " 

Upon  this  the  girls  fell  upon  David,  and  with  laughing 
protests,  and  with  a  bombardment  of  bread-crumbs,  drove 
him  almost  breathless  into  a  corner,  whither  he  beckoned 
Joseph  to  follow  him. 

"  I  have  been  wanting  to  see  you,"  said  David,  suddenly 
becoming  very  grave,  "  to  thank  you  for  the  gallant  way  in 
which  you  acted  about  poor  Shiphrah.  I  know  the  girl," 
a  shadow  passed  over  David's  face,  "  and  I  was  sorry  to 
learn  of  the  way  in  which  she  was  going.  Miryam  has 
gone  to  her  to-day  to  give  her  some  work — some  sewing 
for  our  theatre.  I  —  I  just  wanted  to  thank  you." 

As  they  clasped  hands,  Joseph  saw  that  David's  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears. 

He  turned  away  hastily.     "It  was   nothing  —  nothing 


JOSEPH    AND   BATHSHEBA  181 

but  duty,"  he  said.  "  I  thought  I  would  run  in  to  inquire 
why  you  had  postponed  the  production  of  Mordecai's 
'  Hymn,'  and  to  get  away  from  my  sad  thoughts  for  a  time." 

"  The  hymn  ?  Oh,  I  am  waiting  for  Mordecai.  At  the 
last  moment  he  backed  out  —  said  the  time  was  not  yet 
favorable,  and  that  when  the  condition  of  the  cloakmakers 
was  a  little  worse  he  would  give  me  the  word.  I  believe 
he  thinks  that  the  song  would  start  a  revolution." 

"  Such  things  have  happened,"  said  Joseph.  "  But  per 
haps  the  lock-out  will  be  ended  sooner  than  Mordecai 
imagines." 

"  Let  us  hope  so.  And,  by  the  way,  I  was  thinking  of 
yon  and  of  Mordecai  when  you  came  in.  For  the  fair 
Bathsheba  has  just  paid  me  a  visit,  and  left  me  an  impor 
tant  bit  of  news." 

A  tiny  spot  of  color  showed  in  one  of  Joseph's  cheeks, 
but  he  said  nothing.  David  continued,  — 

"  She  was  looking  bewitchingly  cool  and  stately  in  a 
brand-new  gown  of  some  soft  texture,  and  she  told  me  that 
her  husband  has  had  a  stroke  of  luck.  He  has  been  en 
gaged  for  some  garden  in  Chicago,  where  he  will  play  gypsy 
melodies  at  a  very  good  salary,  all  the  rest  of  the  summer. 
As  for  Bathsheba,  she  is  going  to  remain  here  and  to  study 
for  the  Hebrew  stage  !  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

"It  does  not  surprise  me,  "  said  Joseph.  "Women  like 
that  must  have  a  public  career.  They  can't  live  without  it." 

"  She  was  so  calm  and  self-satisfied,  "  David  remarked, 
"  that  I  tried  to  provoke  her  about  the  Socialists  —  the 
'  Party  of  Force  '  —  or  whatever  they  call  it  —  to  which  she 
is  said  to  belong.  I  could  get  no  information  from  her  on 
that  point.  She  pretended  not  to  know  what  I  was  talking 
about.  But  all  the  time,  so  little  Gershom,  here,  says,  that 
arch-revolutionist,  Baumeister,  was  waiting  for  her  outside." 

'•  Is  he  much  with  her  ?  "  asked  Joseph  sharply. 


182  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I  think  she  follows  his  doctrines. 
You  know  the  proverb:  'Beat  the  gods,  and  their  priests 
will  tremble.'  I  abused  him  roundly,  and  I  don't  think 
she  liked  it.  She  inquired  very  sympathetically  after 
you." 

Joseph  had  suddenly  become  thought fu«  He  smoked 
the  fragrant  Russian  cigarette  which  David  offered  him, 
and  listened  to  an  old  Hebrew  melody  which  the  children 
who  were  to  appear  in  the  historical  drama  were  singing. 

Their  fresh  and  pure  voices  followed  each  quaver  and 
roulade  of  the  ancient  music,  as  David's  skilled  baton  indi 
cated  the  way. 

"Ah!  your  life  is  the  happy  one  !"  said  Joseph.  "You 
are  safe  in  the  ideal  world,  dealing  with  shadows ;  and  you 
really  have  all  the  bread  and  cheese  you  want.  But  we 
poor  folk  who  deal  in  realities  can  get  neither  bread  nor 
cheese.  What  is  this  mystery  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  very  much  at  home  here  among  my  pupils," 
said  David  cheerfully ;  "  but  I  am  really  nobody  outside  of 
these  surroundings.  '  A  small  coin  iu  a  large  jar  makes  a 
great  noise  ; '  but  in  the  street  it  would  soon  be  lost.  And 
as  for  feeding  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  why  should  we  ?  '  He 
who  increaseth  his  flesh  but  multiplieth  food  for  the 
worms.' " 

With  this  rather  cynical  proverb  ringing  in  his  ears, 
Joseph  went  away,  and  was  plunged  into  sloughs  of  work 
all  day. 

Late  in  the  evening  he  perceived  an  unusual  beauty  in 
sky  and  air.  The  intense  heat  still  lingered,  and  down 
in  Hester  and  Ludlow  Streets  the  poor  people  were 
stretched  in  rows  on  their  gaunt  mattresses  on  the  steam 
ing  pavements,  gasping  for  fresh  air. 

But  the  moonlight  was  strangely  weird  and  tender ;  and 
when  by  chance  a  wandering  breeze  from  the  East  lliver 


JOSEPH   AND   BATIISHEBA  .    183 

penetrated  the  baking  quarter,  it  seemed  to  have  in  it  some 
of  the  inspiring  salty  smell  of  the  sea. 

The  poor  little  babies,  with  their  drawn  faces,  puny 
bodies,  and  thin  legs,  sprawled  beside  their  mothers,  wailing 
and  beating  the  air. 

Now  and  then  a  mother,  nursing  her  hungry  child  at 
her  hungrier  breast,  had  a  vision  of  cool,  delicious  fields  in 
some  far  corner  of  the  Russian  "  Pale  "  —  a  corner  where 
wild  grasses,  waving  rhythmically,  sent  forth  a  sweet  savor, 
which  seemed  to  kindle  a  delirium  in  the  blood. 

She  saw  the  peasants  reclining  in  the  shade  of  great 
trees,  plucking  flowers,  and  laughing  as  they  pelted  each 
other  with  blossoms  tinged  with  all  the  colors  of  the  rain 
bow. 

Then  she  gnashed  her  teeth,  as  she  looked  around  her  at 
the  squalor  of  Ludlow  Street,  and  felt  the  pestilential 
vapors  arising  from  the  pavement  to  stifle  her  and  her  child. 

The  yelling  of  the  children,  which  all  the  afternoon  had 
been  fierce  and  menacing,  as  if  even  the  little  ones  were 
about  to  revolt  against  the  tyranny  of  hunger,  gradually 
died  away.  Now  and  then  the  shrill  wail  of  a  baby  per 
sisted  ;  but  finally  the  slumberous  darkness  imposed  its 
tranquillity. 

Babes  and  mothers  forgot  their  troubles ;  the  starving 
fathers  had  a  little  peace,  and  lay  beside  their  families, 
glaring  up  at  the  cloudless  blue  sky,  as  if  reproaching  it 
for  its  answerless  and  indifferent  calm. 

The  old  men,  who  could  not  sleep,  moaned  and  groaned, 
disturbing  the  others,  who  petulantly  rebuked  them.  Ped- 
lers  slept  in  their  clothes,  struck  down  by  fatigue,  like 
soldiers  by  shell  or  bullet  on  a  battle-field. 

And  so  by  hundreds,  by  thousands,  the  hungry  refugees 
lay  in  the  street,  on  the  housetops,  on  the  steps  of  old- 
fashioned  brick  mansions,  even  in  the  middle  of  certain 


184  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

streets,  their  heads  thrown  back,  their  arms  tossed  about 
fantastically,  their  pinched  faces  distorted  and  ghastly 
under  the  moonlight  which  swept  in  measureless  and 
magnificent  waves  down  on  and  over  them,  bestowing  upon 
them  silent  benediction. 

As  Joseph  threaded  his  way  among  these  unconscious 
sleepers,  three-fourths  of  whom  were  now  dependent  upon 
his  efforts  for  security  from  absolute  starvation,  he  felt 
as  if  he  were  walking  through  the  streets  of  a  city  where 
the  plague  had  just  run  riot,  leaving  the  dead  in  every  nook 
and  corner. 

Here  were  two  thin,  consumptive  girls,  fast  asleep  in 
each  other's  arms.  As  Joseph  stepped  over  them  on  his 
way  to  Ludlow  Street,  it  seemed  to  him  that  they  were 
dead,  so  pallid  and  motionless  were  they.  But  a  second 
glance  showed  him  that  they  were  faintly  breathing. 

An  old  man  caught  him  by  the  skirt  of  his  coat,  and 
asked  him  for  a  cigarette.  Joseph  found  him  one  in  a  side 
pocket,  gave  him  a  light  from  his  match-box,  and  went  on. 

At  this  moment  a  dark  figure  left  the  angle  of  a  house, 
and  went  swiftly  past  him.  Joseph  caught  a  momentary 
glimpse  of  the  face.  It  was  that  of  one  of  the  Socialists 
who,  on  the  night  of  Mother  Levitsky's  funeral  march,  had 
tried  to  incite  the  cloakmakers  to  riot. 

A  shudder  swept  through  the  young  labor-leader's  frame. 
He  remembered  Bathsheba's  latest  warning. 

Joseph  was  on  his  way  to  the  same  house  from  which 
Mother  Levitsky  had  been  evicted,  and  in  which  lie  and  his 
followers  had  so  peremptorily  taken  to  task  the  landlord 
Simon. 

He  had  been  summoned  thither  by  an  urgent  call  from  a 
consumptive  cloakmaker,  who  was  to  be  sent  to  the 
hospital  the  next  morning,  after  having  sacrificed  his 
existence  to  the  Dagon  of  the  sewing-machine ;  and  who 


JOSEPH   AND   BATHSHEBA  185 

wished  to  have  some  provision  made  for  his  infant  child. 
As  a  member  of  the  Union  lie  solicited  Joseph's  good 
offices. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  he  reached  the  door  of  this 
house.  Stepping  over  the  recumbent  forms  in  the  open 
passage-way,  he  went  swiftly  up  four  flights  of  stairs  to  the 
sick  man's  room,  arranged  for  the  removal  of  the  child 
(whose  mother  had  been  buried  only  a  fortnight  ago)  on  the 
following  morning,  and  had  reached  the  third  floor  on  his 
downward  journey,  when  he  was  stopped  by  a  sight  which 
sent  the  blood  coursing  like  quicksilver  through  his  veins, 
and  set  his  knees  to  trembling  violently. 

All  was  darkness  on  the  landing,  but  a  door  directly  in 
front  of  him  was  open,  disclosing  to  him  a  small  room 
flooded  with  soft  light ;  and,  standing  in  the  centre  of  it, 
a  beautiful  vision,  so  fantastic,  so  ethereal  that  he  could 
hardly  believe  it  real,  stood  Bathsheba ! 

She  was  robed  in  a  white  gown  of  ancient  pattern,  which 
left  her  stately  shoulders  bare,  and  the  soft  and  clinging 
folds  of  which  outlined  her  noble  form  in  all  its  ravishing 
perfection. 

One  shapely  arm  was  raised  in  graceful  gesture,  as  if  she 
were  a  queen  or  a  goddess  beckoning  an  adorer  to  approach. 
In  the  other  she  held  a  necklace  of  pearls,  which  gave  out 
soft  glints  under  the  mild  radiance,  and  which  she  was 
evidently  about  to  don. 

The  room  was  profusely  and  picturesquely  littered  with 
costumes  and  stuffs,  some  of  which  were  evidently  very 
costly.  On  a  little  table  at  the  right  lay  a  tinsel  crown  and 
a  quaint  antique  sceptre.  A  large  willow  trunk,  the  lid  of 
which  was  raised,  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  dresses, 
girdles,  Oriental  embroideries,  slippers,  flasks  ;  and  a  cimeter 
with  sparkling  stones  in  its  hilt  reposed  where  it  had  been 
carelessly  thrown,  upon  a  fur-bordered  cloak  such  as  rich 
Polish  matrons  wore  half  a  century  ago. 


186  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

In  a  corner  a  tall  manikin  such  as  milliners  use  was 
draped  with  an  exquisite  silver-gray  costume  ;  and  at 
Bathsheba's  feet  was  a  mantle  which  she  had  apparently 
just  tried  on,  and  rejected  as  an  unworthy  accessory  to  her 
charms. 

Joseph  rubbed  his  eyes.  "It  is  curious,"  he  said  to  him 
self,  in  an  undertone,  "how  I  see  that  woman  everywhere. 
Of  course  that  is  not  Bathsheba.  It  is  some  actress  taking 
stock  among  her  stage  dresses,  and  my  eyes  have  simply 
played  me  one  more  trick !  Heigh  ho  !  " 

He  was  continuing  his  way,  with  his  gaze  still  fixed  on 
the  beautiful  figure  bathed  in  the  floods  of  chastened  light, 
when  the  woman  started  forward,  and  stretched  out  one 
hand  to  shut  the  door. 

Afraid  that  he  might  be  mistaken  for  a  robber,  Joseph 
darted  forward  to  get  past  the  door,  and  descend  the  stairs, 
when  the  woman  saw  him. 

It  was  Bathsheba,  and  they  were  face  to  face.  He  felt 
her  warm  breath  upon  his  hand,  which  he  had  raised  as  he 
turned. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  with  a  vague  fright  in 
her  eyes,  then  turned  half  around,  and  sank  to  the  floor 
in  a  swoon. 

In  an  instant  Joseph  was  kneeling  beside  her,  and,  raising 
her  splendid  head,  he  laid  it,  superb  with  its  magnificent 
masses  of  dishevelled  hair,  from  which  came  a  strange  per 
fume  to  trouble  his  senses,  upon  his  shoulder. 

Then  he  gazed  earnestly  into  her  face. 

Yes,  it  was  Bathsheba;  but  a  transformation  had  been 
wrought  upon  her  features  since  he  had  last  seen  her.  The 
sternness  was  gone  ;  it  had  given  place  to  a  tender  sensuous- 
ness,  almost  childlike,  as  she  lay  there  unconscious  and 
helpless. 

The  wrinkle  between  her  brows  had  disappeared.    There 


JOSEPH    AND   BATHSHEBA  187 

was  a  faint  impression  of  rapture  about  the  lips.  This  was 
not  the  destroying  angel  of  the  "party  of  force,"  but  a 
siren  and  a  charmer  whose  influence  might  be  illimitable. 

"  She  is  an  enchantress  ! "  thought  Joseph.  "  Am  I 
bewitched  ?  Perhaps  this  is  only  her  image,  and  her  real 
self  is  far  away,  plotting  with  Baumeister,  or  listening  to 
Mordecai's  hymns  of  revolution." 

Bathsheba  opened  her  eyes.  She  did  not  move  her  head, 
nor  for  a  full  minute  did  she  try  to  speak.  It  was  a  minute 
of  mingled  rapture  and  torture  for  Joseph.  He  was  in 
truth  under  the  influence  of  an  enchantment,  the  same 
mysterious  charm  which  has  lured  men  to  destruction  in 
every  age  since  time  was  born. 

The  woman  at  last  lifted  up  her  eyes.  As  her  gaze 
rested  upon  Joseph's  perplexed  and  anxious  face,  a  red 
flush  sprang  into  her  cheeks,  and  the  glow  of  her  naked 
shoulders  so  startled  Joseph  that  he  tried  to  withdraw  his 
arms. 

But  Bathsheba  swayed,  and  would  have  fallen. 

A  moment  more,  and  he  raised  her  gently  to  her  feet, 
where  she  stood  unsteadily,  looking  at  him  as  if  she  were 
about  to  order  him  to  withdraw. 

Then  she  moved  to  the  trunk,  and  caught  up  a  fleecy 
wrap. 

One  twirl  of  her  deft  arms,  and  her  shoulders  were 
draped. 

Another  twirl,  and  the  disarranged  tresses  were  brought 
into  subjection,  and  attractively  knotted  at  the  back  of 
her  Juno-like  neck. 

And  now  she  spoke,  in  a  voice  so  tremulous  that  she 
seemed  to  be  suffering  from  fear. 

"How  caine  you  here?  How  did  I  happen  to  swoon  ? 
It  was  very  silly  of  me.  I  —  I  —  am  confused  —  Herr 
Zalrnonah,  will  you  give  me  that  little  scent-bottle  on  the 


188  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

dressing-table  ?  Thank  you.  How  can  you  ever  forgive 
me  for  being  such  a  child?  But — you  —  frightened  me 
so  —  and  just  at  that  instant,  too,  when  I  was  thinking  of 
you." 

"  Of  me,"  said  Joseph  in  a  faint  voice,  which  did  not 
seem  like  his  own.  "  You  were  too  kind.  I  suppose  that 
you  were  thinking  how  the  poor  cloakmaker's  delegate 
came  to  be  staring  at  you  at  such  an  hour  —  in  this  house  ; 
but  I  will  explain." 

And  in  a  few  words  he  told  her  of  his  mission  to  the 
invalid,  and  of  his  surprise  at  finding  her  in  such  a  place, 
among  the  sweated  drudges. 

"  And  masquerading  in  such  rich  attire,"  said  Bathsheba, 
who  was  all  at  once  quite  well  again.  "  It  is  I  who  owe 
my  friend  an  explanation.  We  have  —  that  is  my  husband- 
has  had  a  great  stroke  of  luck.  He  has  got  an  engagement 
in  Chicago,  which  pays  him  very  well  indeed;  and,  thanks 
to  that  good  fortune,  I  am  able  to  gratify  my  wish  to  study 
for  the  stage  while  he  is  absent.  All  these  pretty  things 
with  which  you  see  me  surrounded  were  the  property  of 
that  unlucky  actress  at  Reise's  theatre.  I  think  our  people 
liked  her  better  than  any  one  else  who  had  come  here  from 
Europe  to  play  the  historical  dramas.  The  poor  thing  had 
drifted  from  one  abode  to  another,  until  she  was  stranded 
here  in  this  odd  rookery  of  Simon's  —  you  know  Simon?" 

"I  ought  to  know  him.  This  is  the  very  house  from 
which  he  evicted  poor  old  Mother  Levitsky  —  the  house 
which  we  came  so  near  to  pulling  down  about  his  ears." 

Bathsheba  looked  troubled.  "  So  it  is,"  she  stammered. 
"  And  I  never  thought  of  it  until  this  moment.  I  should 
not  have  come  here.  I  see  it  now  —  but  I  was  carried 
away  by  the  splendid  chance  to  get  all  these  lovely  things  ; 
and  for  that  debt  and  a  hundred  dollars,  which  my  hus 
band  was  able  to  advance  out  of  his  contract,  they  are 


189 

all  mine !  Are  they  not  beautiful  ?  And  do  you  think 
that  I  ever  could  be  worthy  to  wear  such  charming  cos 
tumes  on  the  stage  ?  You  perhaps  know  that  I  can  sing, 
but  I  feel  that  I  am  frightfully  wooden  as  an  actress.  Give 
me  a  frank  opinion,  Herr  Zalmonah.  You  know  how  much 
I  respect  your  judgment." 

"I  don't  know.  It  is  all  too  sudden.  I  —  I  —  am  glad 
you  are  so  fortunate.  I  —  am  sure  that  it  must  be  delight 
ful  to  act." 

The  woman  looked  at  him  through  her  half-closed  eyes 
with  the  faintest  suggestion  of  a  smile  on  her  face.  She 
saw  that  Joseph  was  confused,  and  she  triumphed  in  his 
confusion. 

"  If  it  had  been  any  one  but  you,  Herr  Zalmonah,"  she 
said,  adroitly  combining  eye  and  lip  flattery  as  woman  alone 
can  do,  "  who  had  come  upon  me  while  I  was  trying  on 
these  pretty  things,  I  should  have  been  ready  to  die  of 
vexation.  But  I  know  that  you  understand  that  it  was  not 
vanity  that  impelled  this  masquerade.  It  was  simply  the 
desire  to  test  my  capabilities  —  to  see  if  I  had  confidence  in 
myself."  She  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  And  what  do  you  propose  to  play  first  ? "  inquired 
Joseph,  who  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  Bathsheba's  face, 
although  he  felt  her  gaze  burning  his  forehead. 

"  I  don't  know.  Something  strange  and  original.  What 
a  pity,  Herr  Zalmonah,  that  you  are  not  an  author.  Then 
you  might  write  me  a  play." 

"  And  what  will  become  of  your  special  work  while  you 
are  acting  ? "  said  Joseph.  "  I  thought  you  were  very 
much  devoted  to  that." 

Bathsheba  looked  up  at  him  with  languorous  half-closed 
eyes.  She  sighed  deeply,  and  opened  and  closed  her  hands 
nervously. 

"  So  I  was,"  she  at  last  said,  "  until  —  I  met  you." 


190  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

The  scent-bottle,  which  she  had  carelessly  replaced  on  the 
little  table,  fell  to  the  floor  and  was  shivered  to  atoms.  A 
faint  and  sensuous  odor  tilled  the  whole  room,  and  seemed 
to  take  possession  of  Joseph,  as  some  subtle  philter  might 
have  done.  His  temples  throbbed,  and  lights  danced  be 
fore  his  vision.  Finally  he  seemed  to  push  a  great  weight 
from  his  chest  and  to  say,  — 

"And  how  could  I  interfere  with  your  plans — your  de 
sires  to  -reform  society  —  the  world  ?  " 

Bathsheba  appeared  to  move  toward  him,  and  yet  he  saw 
her  but  dimly,  as  though  she  were  surrounded  by  a  golden 
mist.  Some  irresistible  force  was  impelling  him  to  stretch 
out  his  arms  and  to  welcome  her  to  them.  But  now  she 
was  answering  him. 

"  Can — you — ask  —  me — that  ?  "  she  said,  almost  breath 
lessly. 

She  threw  aside  the  wrap,  as  if  it  oppressed  her,  and 
stood  palpitating  with  lovely  life  and  with  her  strong 
emotion,  as  if  soliciting  from  him  a  word,  a  caress,  a 
look. 

There  was  something  so  exquisitely  appealing  in  the 
humility  of  her  tacit  confession,  which  expressed  so  much 
more  than  her  words,  that  Joseph  was  carried  away  by 
it. 

He  stretched  forth  his  arms,  and  in  an  instant  she  was 
beside  him,  and  her  head  was  upon  his  breast. 

For  a  moment  —  then  they  stood  apart,  gazing  around 
them  with  a  vague  fright  in  their  eyes. 

From  one  of  the  floors  below  came  a  piercing  cry,  uttered 
in  the  jargon,  a  cry  of  terror  and  anguish  :  — 

"  Fire  !  Fire  !  Fire  !  Save  yourselves  :  the  old  shell  is 
burning ! " 

Joseph  listened  intently,  then  turned  and  ran  down  one 
flight  of  stairs,  and  listened  again  in  the  darkness.  Sud- 


JOSEPH    AND   BATHSHEBA  191 

denly  a  puff  of  acrid  smoke  came  full  in  his  face,  and  he 
saw  the  red  glare  of  the  flames. 

He  rushed  up  the  stairs  again,  and  found  Bathsheba,  pale 
as  a  marble  goddess,  seated  in  a  chair,  and  listening  intently 
to  the  concert  of  voices  in  the  street,  which  every  moment 
grew  louder  and  more  frantic. 


192  JOSEPH  ZALMONAII 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE    TRIAL    BY    FIRE 

BATIISHEBA  was  the  first  to  speak.  "  What  is  it  ?  "  she 
queried  in  a  husky  voice. 

At  the  same  time  her  woman's  instinct  prompted  her  to 
catch  up  the  costumes,  the  tinsel  jewellery,  the  handsome 
wraps,  and  to  thrust  them  into  the  trunk. 

With  feverish  energy  she  pressed  them  down,  unmindful 
of  the  confusion  in  which  they  lay.  Suddenly  she  turned  her 
whitening  face  quickly  around,  looking  first  at  Joseph, 
then  bending  forward  in  the  attitude  of  one  listening 
intently. 

At  last  she  sprang  up  with  a  muffled  cry,  and  placed  her 
hand  over  her  heart. 

Meantime  Joseph  said  nothing.  He  stood  like  one  de 
prived  of  speech  and  motion. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  been  walking  in  his  sleep 
on  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  and  had  suddenly  awakened  to 
see  the  awful  gulf  yawning  before  him. 

And  now  the  abyss  sent  forth  a- column  of  smoke  and  the 
bitter  savor  of  fire;  and  from  it  sprang  a  flame  which  threw 
its  red  glow  on  the  sides  of  the  chasm,  and  thrilled  him 
with  awe  and  horror. 

Had  Bathsheba  dreamed  the  same  dream  ?  Had  she 
awakened  to  the  same  terrifying  reality  ?  Why  did 
she  start  forward  thus  and  glare  at  the  smoke,  and  clasp 


THE   TRIAL   BY   FIRE  193 

her  hands  and  raise  them  in  supplication,  then  fall  upon  her 
knees,  and  tremble  as  if  she  expected  instant  death  ? 

"Fire!  Fire!" 

Joseph  heard  the  words  faintly,  as  if  they  were  shouted 
at  him  from  an  immense  height,  and  it  did  not  strike  him 
as  strange  that  the  words  were  spoken  in  the  jargon  of 
his  people. 

Then,  suddenly,  he  awoke  to  reality,  and  became  con 
scious  of  the  miserable  Bathsheba  cowering  before  him, 
praying  him  to  save  her,  and  lamenting  because  her  newly 
purchased  treasures  were  in  danger. 

Fire  !  The  house  was  on  fire  !  Joseph  knew  very  well 
what  that  meant.  Unless  he  set  at  work  instantly  to  get 
the  unhappy  woman  and  her  treasures  to  a  place  of  safety, 
a  falling  wall,  or  a  stairway  transformed  into  a  fiery  fur 
nace,  might  cut  off  all  chance  for  life. 

Joseph  would  be  burned  with  Bathsheba,  in  the  house  of 
Simon,  and  his  work  would  be  at  an  end. 

His  precious  cloakmakers  would  starve,  and  he  himself 
would  soon  be  forgotten,  like  all  the  unfortunate  ones  who 
fail,  no  matter  how  heroic  their  struggles  ! 

The  lion  in  his  soul  bounded  into  action. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  again  until  I  find  out  what  has  hap 
pened,"  he  said  imperiously  to  Bathsheba,  who  shrank  back 
and  cowered  before  him.  "  I  think  we  are  in  danger,  but 
there  is  no  use  in  wailing  about  it." 

Bathsheba  ran  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  She  re 
turned  shuddering  and  shaking  her  head,  and  wringing  her 
hands  like  one  demented.  "  My  beautiful  dresses  ! "  she 
murmured  ;  "  they  will  all  be  lost !  And  I  have  never  yet 
worn  them  once  in  public.  What  a  pity  of  pities  ! " 

She  sat  down  helplessly  on  the  floor,  and  began  making 
feeble  efforts  to  close  the  trunk.  But  as  she  had  thrust  all 
the  costumes  into  it,  the  lid  would  not  shut  down,  and 
Bathsheba  merely  bruised  and  cut  her  fingers. 


194  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Bathsheba's  rooms  were  at  the  front  of  the  house,  at 
the  angle  overlooking  two  streets.  Joseph  looked  from  the 
corner  window,  down  to  the  surging  throng  of  women  and 
children,  each  of  whom  was  yelling,  "  Simon's  house  is  on 
fire  ! "  but  he  saw  no  smoke  or  flame. 

From  the  front  he  could  see  nothing  but  a  muttering 
company  of  cloakmakers,  driven  away  from  the  house  by  a 
policeman. 

Where,  then,  was  the  fire  ? 

Was  it  at  the  back  of  the  house  ?  And  —  all  important 
question  —  on  which  floor  was  it  ?  • 

The  New  York  tenement  house  is  a  shell.  Its  mean 
walls  of  poorly  laid  brick  go  down  like  paper  before  a  brisk 
flame.  Its  ladder-like  staircases  of  coarse  planking,  and 
its  narrow  air-shafts,  act  as  funnels  to  fan  the  flames,  and 
to  send  them,  roaring  and  crackling,  to  cut  off  the  escape 
of  any  wretched  people  caught  in  the  upper  stories. 

Such  a  house  will  serve  to  shelter  a  hundred,  or  some 
times  a  hundred  and  fifty  persons,  and  it  can  be  burned  to 
the  ground  in  half  an  hour. 

The  firemen  know  that  it  is  as  dangerous  to  enter  one  of 
these  houses  when  the  flames  are  raging  in  it,  as  to  charge 
against  a  well-intrenched  enemy  in  time  of  war.  Yet  they 
do  their  duty  unhesitatingly,  and  with  a  chivalrous  disre 
gard  of  self  rarely  rewarded  as  it  should  be. 

The  nerve  which  can  take  a  man  through  a  sheet  of 
flame,  or  make  him  crawl  on  hands  and  knees  in  a  room  filled 
with  suffocating  smoke,  until  he  finds  some  aged  woman 
or  tiny  child  left  behind  by  a  family  in  its  mad  rush  for 
safety,  is  the  nerve  of  heroes.  It  merits  as  high  recogni 
tion  as  the  bravery  of  the  soldier. 

But  it  does  not  get  it. 

Joseph  ran  into  the  passage,  and  swiftly  down  the  stairs. 
On  the  landing  he  stopped  and  listened:  nothing.  The 


THE   TRIAL   BY   FfRE  195 

doors  were  open,  and  the  occupants  were  probably  in  the 
street  already.  Few  of  them  had  any  belongings  which 
they  could  not  have  carried  on  their  backs. 

Joseph  went  down  the  next  flight,  and  was  instantly 
surrounded  by  wailing  women,  each  of  whom  besought  him 
to  save  her.  "  There's  no  danger  yet  —  none  that  I  can  see, 
good  women! "he  shouted;  and  shaking  himself  free  he 
went  to  the  ground-floor. 

He  stopped  on  the  last  stair,  and  his  heart  stood  still  for 
a  moment ;  for  now  he  realized  what  a  mistake  he  had 
made  in  not  seizing  Bathsheba,  and  bringing  her  along  with 
him. 

With  characteristic  greed  Simon  had  leased  a  large  room 
on  the  ground-floor  to  a  dealer  in  chemicals  willing  to  pay 
a  huge  rental  for  the  privilege  of  not  being  disturbed. 

Although  the  man  himself  admitted  that  frequent  ex 
plosions,  the  result  of  his  experiments,  created  a  standing 
danger  of  fire,  Simon  had  been  willing  to  take  him,  and  had 
threatened  with  expulsion  any  of  the  wretched  "  sweated  " 
tenants  who  dared  to  complain  of,  or  even  to  mention,  the 
fact. 

And  now  the  end  had  come  !  It  looked  as  if  an  explo 
sion  in  this  den  of  chemicals  had  not  only  cost  the  experi 
menter  his  life,  but  had  sent  out  the  roaring  column  of  flame 
which  was  licking  at  the  wood-work  and  the  heated  bricks, 
and  would  soon  crumble  them  like  tinder. 

Joseph  saw  this  column  of  fire  and  the  half  a  dozen  men 
flitting  in  the  glare  of  it,  trying  to  appease  it  with  a  few 
puny  buckets  full  of  water. 

He  gazed  as  if  fascinated  by  it,  until  it  suddenly  leaped 
straight  at  him.  as  though  actuated  by  some  mad  impulse  to 
destroy  him,  and  he  could  feel  its  hot  breath  upon  the  walls 
of  the  staircase. 

If  he  chose  to  go  forth  alone  now  he  would  be  safe. 


196  JOSEPH   ZALMONATT 

No  one  had  recognized  him.  He  could  walk  out  at  the 
door  and  mingle  in  the  throng  of  rescuers. 

He  looked  at  the  flame  once  more,  and,  while  his  attention 
was  so  occupied,  a  tall,  lithe  figure  glided  up  the  stairs,  and 
disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

Yes  —  he  could  go  away.  But  he  could  not  thus  desert 
Bathsheba.  His  conscience  forbade  him  to  do  it. 

Yet  was  she  not  a  disturbing  and  dangerous  element  in 
his  life  ?  Had  he  not  been  shaken  to  the  very  foundations 
of  his  being  by  the  subtle  and  sinister  power  which  she 
seemed  able  at  all  times  to  summon  ? 

What  was  Bathsheba  to  him  ? 

And  now  the  great  flame-monster  leaped  angrily  and 
menacingly  again,  and  one  of  its  tongues  licked  the  wall, 
and  seemed  loath  to  withdraw.  Joseph  felt  as  if  some 
invisible  force  were  drawing  him  to  the  street. 

But  he  resisted  it  valiantly,  and  went  swiftly  back  up 
the  darkened  stairway.  As  he  reached  the  first  landing 
there  was  a  yell  below,  and  he  saw  the  tongues  of  flame 
lapping  greedily  at  the  planking  of  the  stairs.  Then  came 
a  grand  rush  of  red  flame,  and  a  cloud  of  smoke. 

Joseph  flourished  his  hands  wildly,  and  ran  like  a  maniac 
up  the  second  and  third  flight  of  stairs.  It  was  now  evi 
dent  to  him  that  escape  by  the  stairways  was  impossible ; 
and  that  he  must  persuade  Bathsheba  to  descend  by  the 
fire-escape. 

Meditating  on  the  best  way  of  doing  this,  he  arrived  at 
her  door,  and  to  his  great  surprise  he  found  it  partially 
closed.  He  was  about  to  throw  it  open,  when  he  heard  the 
sound  of  voices  in  angry  colloquy. 

He  stood  still,  and  could  not  help  hearing  all  that  was 
said. 

Bathsheba  was  crying.  "  You  may  say  what  you  like 
of  him  —  if  it  is  true  that  he  is  a  coward,"  she  sobbed. 
"I  could  have  believed  anything  but  that." 


THE   TRIAL   BY   FIRE  197 

"A coward ! "  said  the  other  voice  ;  Joseph  smiled  bitterly 
as  he  recognized  it  as  that  of  Baumeister.  "  That's  a  hard 
word.  But  confess  that  your  admiration  —  shall  I  say 
love  ?  —  for  the  heroic  cloakmaker  has  had  a  severe  shock  ? 
And  come  !  let  me  save  -you  while  there  is  time.  How  do 
we  know  that  he  did  not  set  the  house  on  fire,  just  to  spite 
his  old  enemy,  Simon  ?  " 

Joseph  threw  open  the  door. 

"  Who  is  the  coward  ?  "  he  said  in  a  deep  voice,  and 
making  a  gesture  which  brought  Baumeister  almost  to  his 
feet,  so  tremendously  energetic  and  commanding  it  was. 
"  Who  is  the  coward  ?  — the  man  who  tries  to  kill  another's 
reputation,  or  the  man  who  seeks  for  an  avenue  of  escape 
for  his  enemies,  even  while  they  are  plotting  against  him  ?  " 

"  His  enemies  ?  "  cried  Bathsheba,  who  appeared  to  have 
recovered  her  senses.  "  Surely  you  do  not  count  me  as  an 
enemy,  Joseph  !  You  could  not  —  you  cannot  do  that ! " 

"  Yes,  both  of  you ! "  said  Joseph,  springing  into  the 
room  and  shaking  his  closed  hand  in  Baumeister's  face. 
"As  for  you,  woman,  I  see  you  in  the  true  light  now! 
If  I  needed  any  proof  that  you  were  preparing  to  play  me 
false,  I  could  find  it  in  the  presence  of  this  man  here.  I 
know  you  for  a  fine  pair  of  conspirators  !  But  that  shall 
not  hinder  me  from  saving  your  lives." 

A  cracking  and  rending  sound  was  heard  below.  Bau 
meister  ran  to  the  door,  looked  down  the  stairs,  and  uttered 
a  loud  cry. 

"  The  passage  below  is  already  filled  with  smoke  ! "  he 
said,  returning  to  the  room.  "  We  must  hurry  down. 
Come  !  we  can  finish  our  disputes  in  the  street." 

He  smiled  maliciously  at  Joseph,  and  tried  to  seize 
Bathsheba  by  the  arm,  and  to  drag  her  forward. 

"Not  that  way!"  shouted  Joseph.  "Are  you  mad? 
The  staircase  nearest  the  street  has  already  fallen  in ;  and 


198  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

the  flames  are  rushing  up  here.  We  must  get  out  by  the 
window  !  You  are  standing  over  a  raging  volcano  at  this 
moment ! " 

Bathsheba  turned  to  Joseph,  her  beautiful  face  trans 
figured  by  a  smile.  "  I  knew  he  was  no  coward  ! "  she 
cried,  and  before  he  could  stop  her  she  had  thrown  herself 
passionately  upon  his  breast. 

Joseph  made  a  supreme  effort,  and  unwound  her  arms 
from  his  neck.  This  struggle  seemed  to  take  all  his 
strength,  and  he  staggered  back  against  the  wall,  and 
placed  one  hand  over  his  heart,  as  if  Bathsheba  had  just 
dealt  him  a  blow  there. 

"  Repulse  me  if  you  will !  "  she  said ;  "  I  don't  care,  now 
that  I  am  certain  of  myself!  My  heart  —  yes,  my  soul 
—  has  spoken.  The  rest  is  of  small  consequence.  As  for 
you,  Baumeister,  you  see  that  you  can  no  longer  expect  an 
ally  in  me!  Ah  !  Heaven  be  thanked  that  Fate  sent  you 
here  to-night  to  see  this  and  to  know  the  truth !  I  would 
not  care  —  if  all  the  world  —  knew  it  now  !  " 

She  spoke  with  melodramatic  force  —  desperately,  defi 
antly,  as  woman  speaks  when  she  knows  that  she  has  out 
raged  all  conventions,  and  has  no  mercy  to  expect  from 
vindictive  judges. 

As  she  repaired  the  disorder  of  her  hair,  displaying  her 
beautiful  round  arms  while  she  tremblingly  bound  up  her 
tresses,  Baumeister,  who  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  about 
the  fire,  gazed  at  her  with  undisguised  admiration. 

"  I  think  you  will  make  an  actress  ! "  he  said ;  "  I  do, 
indeed !  And  your  husband  would  think  so  too  —  if  he 
were  here !  I  am  not  so  sure  about  your  capacity  for 
conspiracy.  But  come  !  where  is  the  fire-escape  ?  Ilerr 
Joseph  has  admitted  that  he  has  no  intention  of  burning 
us  alive,  much  as  he  dislikes  us !  So  let  us  get  down  to 
solid  ground !  These  tenement  houses  have  an  ugly  way 
of  falling  in  without  warning!" 


THE   TRIAL   BY   FIRE  199 

"  There  is  no  fire-escape  ! "  said  Joseph  calmly,  returning 
from  an  investigation  of  the  front  and  side  windows. 

"  At  the  back  of  the  house  then !  There  must  be  one," 
cried  Baumeister,  beginning  to  rock  to  and  fro,  and  giving 
signs  of  an  approaching  epileptic  fit. 

"  None  there,"  answered  Joseph  curtly  ;  "  I  looked  before 
I  went  down-stairs.  And  the  stairways  are  now  a  mass  of 
seething  fire.  Hark !  Do  you  hear  the  timbers  crack  ?  " 

"  I  shall  jump  down,"  said  Baumeister  doggedly,  ap 
proaching  the  window.  "  I  prefer  broken  legs  to  being 
roasted  alive." 

Joseph  seized  and  held  him  back.  "  You  will  do  nothing 
of  the  sort,"  he  said.  "  Strip  up  those  dresses  into  narrow 
pieces ;  make  a  rope  :  I  will  make  another.  We  will  knot 
them  together,  tie  them  to  the  window,  and  slide  down  on 
them.  Quick  !  " 

He  sprang  upon  Baumeister  with  uplifted  hand.  The 
man  cowered  before  him,  and  in  an  instant  he  was  at  the 
work. 

"  My  beautiful  costumes  !"  screamed  Bathsheba.  "Ah  ! 
what  a  punishment !  To  own  them  but  a  few  hours,  and 
then  to  see  them  destroyed  by  fire  ! " 

The  men  worked  with  desperate  energy,  goaded  by  the 
fierce  heat  now  close  upon  them,  and  by  the  smoke  creep 
ing  upon  the  landing,  and  sending  light  ashen  blue  and 
greenish  wreaths  and  puffs  into  the  room,  to  float  above 
their  heads. 

"  Now  take  a  part  of  your  rope,"  said  Joseph  to  Bau 
meister,  "  and  fasten  this  woman  to  me  so  that  she  cannot 
slip  or  fall.  Stand  here  !  "  he  said  curtly  to  Bathsheba. 

She  obe}'ed  meekly  and  without  question. 

"Bind  us  together,"  commanded  Joseph;  "and  see  that 
you  do  it  well,  or  I  will  keep  you  here  until  the  floor  falls 
in.  You  know  I  am  a  man  of  my  word." 


200  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

At  the  same  moment  his  fingers  closed  over  Bathsheba's 
scissors,  lying  on  the  little  dressing-table. 

"  Bind  !  "  he  cried  to  Baumeister. 

It  was  done  ;  and  Joseph  could  feel  Bathsheba's  heart 
beating  fiercely  against  his  own. 

She  was  bound  to  him  so  that  she  could  not  fall  when 
he  clambered  down  the  rope,  but  so  that  his  limbs  were 
free. 

Entreating  Bathsheba  to  be  mute,  and  to  remain  perfectly 
quiet,  he  strode  with  her  to  the  window,  and  fastened 
his  line,  knotted  with  what  remained  of  Baumeister's, 
to  a  stout  old-fashioned  hook  in  the  sill,  evidently  once  used 
for  fastening  a  rope  for  lowering  bundles. 

"  If  this  gives  way,"  he  said,  "  some  of  us  will  learn  how 
broken  legs  feel."  Then  turning  to  Baumeister,  he  said, — 

"  Down  the  rope  !  hand  over  hand  !     Down  with  you  !  " 

Baumeister  trembled  and  hesitated.  Joseph  gripped  him 
by  the  collar.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  throw  you  out  ?  "  he 
cried. 

The  terrified  Baumeister  swung  over  the  window-sill,  and 
began  the  descent. 

Joseph  had  calculated  well.  The  rope  made  of  Bath 
sheba's  ruined  costumes  served.  It  touched  the  ground. 
In  a  minute  Baumeister  was  out  of  danger. 

Just  as  he  was  descending  there  was  a  great  cry  from 
the  crowd,  and  all  ran  a'ronnd  the  corner  to  the  front  of  the 
house. 

Joseph  examined  the  hook  in  the  sill.  "It  may  hold  us 
both,"  he  said ;  "  I  hope  it  will.  Don't  be  frightened. 
Hang  as  quietly  as  if  you  were  dead,  while  I  go  down  hand 
over  hand.  If  you  struggle  we  are  lost !" 

Bathsheba  bent  forward  and  kissed  him  passionately  on 
the  forehead. 

"  Shall  I  cut  the  bonds  ?  "  he  said  in  a  terrible  voice, 


THE   TRIAL   BY    FIRE  201 

"and  leave  you  to  perish  alone  ?  Another  caress  like  that, 
and  I  swear  to  you  that  I  will  do  it ! " 

Bathsheba's  lips  paled.  Joseph  felt  her  weight  heavy 
on  his  arms.  She  had  swooned. 

"  It  is  better  so  ! "  he  said. 

It  needed  almost  superhuman  care  to  get  out  at  the  win 
dow  with  his  unconscious  burden  without  falling.  But  he 
did  it. 

He  slipped  the  scissors  into  a  side  pocket,  grasped  the 
frail  rope,  closed  his  eyes,  and  swung  down  by  one- 
hand. 

He  felt  as  if  his  shoulder  were  unjointed,  and  fancied 
that  the  house  was  falling  in,  as  he  brought  up  his  other 
arm  and  caught  hold.  The  next  change  was  still  harder. 
Suddenly  fire  flashed  out  from  a  window  at  him.  Again 
and  again  he  steadily  lowered  himself  and  his  burden. 
It  seemed  ages.  His  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  He  fancied 
that  they  were  flying  through  the  air  pursued  by  a  fiery 
demon.  Then  they  were  hurled  against  a  mountain  and 
fell  down. 

Joseph's  strength  had  given  out  as  he  was  raising  one 
hand  to  relieve  the  other  for  the  last  time.  His  grasp 
gave  way,  and  he  fell.  But,  as  they  were  within  five  feet 
of  the  street,  no  bones  were  broken. 

The  shock  revived  them  both.  Joseph  seized  the  scis 
sors  and  hastily  severed  Bathsheba's  bonds.  A  stout  fire 
man  was  approaching  them. 

"  Don't  stand  there,"  he  said ;  "  the  wall  may  come  down 
any  minute.  We  just  cleared  all  the  people  out  o'  this 
street.  Where  t'  'ell  'd  you  two  come  from  ?  " 

Baumeister  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Joseph  and  Bath- 
sheba  turned  and  hastened  away  in  the  direction  opposite 
to  that  indicated  by  the  fireman.  That  functionary  was 
about  to  call  them  back,  when  the  crash  of  falling  walls 
interrupted  him. 


202  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Simon's  house  was  falling  into  shapeless  ruins. 

"  Oh,  my  beautiful  costumes  !  "  sobbed  Bathsheba,  as  she 
heard  the  noise. 

Joseph  was  angry,  and  was  about  to  reprove  Bathsheba 
for  thinking  of  her  small  loss,  when  so  many  greater  ones 
were  to  be  mourned,  when  they  came  upon  Bauuieister, 
limping  and  gesticulating  like  a  madman. 

When  he  saw  them  he  ran  up  to  Joseph,  and,  grasping 
his  hands,  he  cried  out,  — 

"  If  it  had  not  been  for  you  I  should  have  been  roasting 
up  there  now.  Yes,  you  have  saved  my  life ;  and  you  shall 
see  that  I  am  not  ungrateful.  Let  all  that  took  place  up 
there  to-night  be  forgotten.  You  must  not  suppose  that  I 
shall  ever  mention  it  to  a  living  soul !  " 

Joseph,  who  withdrew  his  bleeding  hands  with  impa 
tient  haste,  looked  grimly  at  Baumeister. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  conceal,"  he  said.  "  But  for  this 
woman's  sake  it  is  better  so.  Remember  your  promise; 
and  now  let  us  see  what  we  can  do  for  the  poor  people 
who  have  been  driven  out.  What  can  we  do  for  her  ? " 
pointing  to  Bathsheba. 

"  Let  her  come  with  me,"  said  Baumeister,  drawing  the 
trembling  woman  to  him.  "  I  will  find  shelter  for  her." 

"  Shall  we  not  see  you  again  soon  ? "  said  Bathsheba. 
"  You  who  have  saved  us  ?  " 

"  I  shall  go  on  with  my  work,"  said  Joseph  incohe 
rently,  "and  when  it  is  finished  I  am  going  away  —  I 
don't  know  where!  I  am  tired  of  all  this  roar  and  turmoil 
and  misery !  I  don't  think  it  would  be  of  any  use  to  see 
me  again." 

Bathsheba  looked  almost  imploringly  at  him ;  but  he 
turned  and  walked  away  briskly,  and  the  twain  watched 
him  as  he  parleyed  with  two  or  three  angry  firemen, 
then  leaped  over  some  hose,  and  pushed  his  way  to  the 
front  of  the  burninj'  house. 


THE  TRIAL   BY  FIRE  203 

A  moment  later  the  flames  burst  through  the  wall  down 
which  they  had  recently  lowered  themselves,  and  the  sky 
was  lighted  up  by  the  leaping  fire. 

The  wall  swayed  and  trembled,  and  then  fell  in  with 
a  tremendous  crash.  Immense  volumes  of  black  smoke 
arose,  sending  abroad  noxious  odors.  The  hum  and  beat 
ing  of  the  fire-engines  in  the  adjacent  streets  went  on  with 
rhythmic  fierceness. 

And  now  a  vast  clamor  of  shouting  and  wailing  arose, 
and  was  steadily  maintained  for  some  minutes,  rising  to  the 
acuteness  of  shrieks  and  groans  each  time  that  some  fresh 
disaster  was  announced. 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  shouted  Baumeister,  shaking  his  blackened 
hand  in  the  direction  which  Joseph  had  taken.  "  I  think 
we  shall  see  the  young  labor-leader  again.  Sacrament !  I 
am  decidedly  of  the  opinion  that  he  has  not  seen  the  last 
of  us.  And  we  have  him  in  our  power  now,  Bathsheba  —  in 
our  power  —  do  you  hear  ?  Let  him  run  his  race;  he  will 
find  us  at  the  end  of  it.  It  has  been  a  fine  night's  work  — 
yes,  a  brave  night's  work  ! " 

Bathsheba  stood  gazing  at  him  as  if  she  had  but  little 
idea  of  what  he  meant.  And  when  he  suddenly  screamed 
and  fell  face  downward  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  she 
was  so  alarmed  that  she  could  do  nothing  but  stand  staring 
at  him  and  wringing  her  hands. 

Just  then  a  clumsy  figure  appeared  among  the  smoking 
ruins  at  the  back  of  the  house.  It  was  carrying  a  small 
child  tenderly  in  its  arms.  Cleverly  dodging  a  mass  of 
red-hot  brick  which  came  toppling  down,  the  figure  went 
toward  Bathsheba. 

It  was  Ben  Zion. 


204  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   SWEATER    SWEATED 

"THAT  was  a  narrow  escape,  as  the  pig  said  when  he 
slipped  out  of  the  bear's  mouth,"  quoth  Ben  Zion,  address 
ing  Bathsheba  as  if  meeting  her  at  that  moment  were  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  and  as  if  he  had  known 
her  since  they  both  were  children.  "  And  see  what  I  have 
picked  up  while  I  was  skirting  the  ruins  of  the  house !  By 
the  bones  of  my  ancestors  !  I  believe  some  woman  must 
have  thrown  the  child  out  of  a  third-story  window." 

He  held  up  the  bundle,  and  exhibited  a  wretched  little 
crippled  child,  at  least  twenty  months  old,  but  so  starved 
and  woe-begone  with  a  hundred  miseries,  that  it  did  not 
look  half  its  age.  Its  arms  and  legs  were  so  thin  and  bony, 
its  face  was  so  drawn  and  pinched,  that  Bathsheba  shud 
dered  with  disgust  and  horror  as  the  glare  of  the  conflagra 
tion  lighted  up  the  puny  waif. 

"  Take  it  away,"  she  said  ;  "  it  is  horrible ! " 

"Come,  this  is  hospitable,"  croaked  the  pedler,  "hos 
pitable  beyond  belief,  as  the  fox  said  when  the  trap  took 
him  in.  I  am  just  about  to  put  the  baby  in  your  arms, 
and  to  ask  you  to  care  for  it,  and  you  turn  your  nose  up  as 
if  it  were  a  changeling.  Come,  a  little  courage  ! " 

As  he  extended  his  arms  once  more,  with  the  bundle  in 
them,  toward  Bathsheba,  he  tumbled  against  the  prostrate 
figure  of  Baumeister. 


THE   SWEATER    SWEATED  205 

"Come!  now,  you  must  take  the  little  foundling!"  he 
cried,  "  for  here  is  some  one  trying  to  dig  his  own  grave, 
and  I  must  see  who  and  what  he  is." 

He  unceremoniously  placed  the  child  in  Bathsheba's 
arms,  at  which  she  shuddered  again,  and  cried  out,  — 

';  I  don't  want  the  little  monster  !  How  do  I  know  that 
it  hasn't  come  straight  from  some  room  reeking  with 
typhus  ?  " 

"  Ah,  bah !  we  are  typhus  proof,  you  and  I,"  answered 
Ben  Zion,  who  was  gradually  assuming  a  very  familiar 
tone.  "Now,  whom  have  we  here  ?  Baumeister!  Of  course  ! 
Another  epileptic  fit.  I  begin  to  understand.  And  his 
hands  are  bleeding."  He  looked  up  sharply  at  Bathsheba. 
"  How  happened  you  to  be  here  to-night,  and  in  company 
with  this  man  ?  I  wonder  if  his  conspiracy  has  anything 
to  do  with  the  burning  of  that  house  ?  You  haven't  told 
me  why  you  are  here  —  and  why  you  look  as  if  you  had 
seen  the  Devil  himself !  " 

While  he  talked  he  bumped  Baumeister's  head  against 
the  hard  bed  of  the  street,  and  did  it  with  such  seemingly 
ferocious  energy,  that  Bathsheba  begged  him  to  desist. 

"  Leave  him  to  me,"  he  said.  "  He  doesn't  inind  love- 
pats  like  that.  I'll  bring  him  to  his  senses,  if  I  have  to 
smash  his  skull.  Only  to  think  that  if  I  should  give  one 
pat  a  little  harder  than  the  others,  one  of  the  worst  of 
Joseph's  enemies  would  be  out  of  the  way  !  But  fair  means 
are  the  best !  " 

Baumeister  suddenly  revived,  sat  up  with  a  bewildered 
air,  and  looked  first  at  Bathsheba,  then  at  Ben  Zion,  and 
last  at  the  flaming  ruined  walls  near  at  hand.  Then  he 
put  his  hand  to  his  head,  and  drew  a  long  sigh. 

After  all  this  he  began  in  the  most  natural  tone  in  the 
world  to  tell  them  of  some  youthful  adventure  in  Russia. 
The  fact  that  Bathsheba  was  holding  a  child  in  her  arms 
did  not  seem  to  him  worthy  of  attention. 


206  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Presently  he  got  upon  his  feet,  and  walking  unsteadily 
to  where  part  of  the  rope  which  they  had  used  for  descend 
ing  had  fallen,  he  said  as  if  communing  with  himself,  — 

"  This  must  be  burned  at  once.  It  is  lucky  that  I  found 
it.  Bathsheba,  let  me  whisper  to  you." 

He  came  up  to  her  so  swiftly  that  he  almost  frightened 
her,  and  hissed  into  her  ear  in  German,  a  language  which 
Ben  Zion  but  imperfectly  understood,  — 

"  Not  a  word  to  this  peddling  fool  about  having  seen 
Joseph  in  the  building  just  burned !  As  you  value  our 
work  and  your  life,  remember  !  " 

Then  he  turned  and  walked  away  without  a  word  of 
thanks  to  Ben  Zion,  or  seeming  to  be  aware  that  he  had 
just  been  grovelling  in  the  street. 

"  That's  the  second  time  I've  driven  the  black  devils  out 
of  him,"  said  Ben  Zion.  "They  have  called  me  a  sorcerer 
before  now  for  less  than  that  in  Russia.  Our  friend  yonder 
don't  seem  to  me  quite  strong  enough  for  a  conspirator. 
And — you  haven't  told  me  why  you  and  he  were  watching 
the  moon  from  this  particular  angle  when  the  fire  broke 
out." 

"  I  was  in  danger  of  being  burned  alive  in  the  house,  and 
he  saved  me,"  said  •Bathsheba,  determined  if  possible  to 
throw  him  off  the  track.  A  wave  of  crimson  swept  into 
her  cheeks  as  she  uttered  the  falsehood,  the  utterance  of 
which  she  regretted  a  moment  later. 

(i  So,"  said  Ben  Zion,  "  you  were  one  of  Simon's  lodgers  ? 
Well,  he  will  never  persecute  you  for  rent  again.  They 
say  that  he  was  one  of  the  first  to  be  baked.  And  the 
firemen  tell  us  that  at  least  ten  others  are  in  there  with 
him.  Quite  a  lively  evening,  as  the  wolf  said  when  he 
carried  off  the  moujik's  baby  !" 

At  that  moment  a  sense  of  her  utterly  helpless  and  for 
lorn  condition  flashed  through  Bathsheba's  mind,  and  pre- 


THE    SWEATER    SWEATED  207 

vented  her  from  dismissing  the  sententious  pedler  with  a 
stinging  exhortation  as  to  the  virtue  of  minding  one's  own 
business. 

She  thrust  one  hand  into  a  fold  of  her  dress,  where  she 
had  been  thoughtful  enough  to  put  her  purse,  which  con 
tained  a  few  dollars  and  two  or  three  bits  of  plain  jewellery. 
But  everything  else  was  gone !  "  All  my  beautiful  cos 
tumes  ! "  she  said  once  more,  and  began  to  weep  bitterly. 

Ben  Zion  looked  at  her  with  much  curiosity.  But  he  did 
not  question  her  further.  "  We  shall  gain  nothing  by  stand 
ing  here,  except  a  hot  brick  or  two  on  our  heads,"  he  said. 

"  I  must  find  a  new  lodging,"  said  Bathsheba. 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  the  little  man.  "  I  will  give  you 
shelter  until  morning,  and  then  you  can  look  about  you. 
And  where  is  your  husband  ?  " 

Bathsheba  told  him,  at  the  same  time  holding  out  the 
baby,  and  imploring  him  to  take  it  again.  So  without  more 
ado  the  little  pedler  clapped  the  mite  under  one  arm,  and 
crying,  "Come  on!"  set  off  at  a  rapid  pace  through  the 
fire-illumined  streets. 

They  were  soon  away  from  the  smoke  and  flame  and 
shouting ;  and  at  the  corner  of  two  dirty  streets  Ben  Zion 
halted  before  an  uninviting  basement. 

"  This  is  my  palace,"  he  said.  "  Don't  stumble  on  the 
steps,  and  if  you  see  a  rat,  don't  scream.  The  rats  are  good 
little  folk,  and  they  won't  bite  unless  you  try  to  take  away 
their  privileges.  I  wish  we  had  as  much  courage  as  they 
have  ! " 

While  he  rattled  on  in  the  quaint  jargon  which  at  any 
other  time  would  have  brought  a  smile  to  Bathsheba's  lips, 
he  was  pushing  open  a  creaking  door;  and,  striking  a  match 
and  lighting  a  rusty  lamp  which  he  had  brought  with  him 
from  Russia,  he  ushered  the  faint  and  trembling  woman 
into  a  little  cellar  almost  bare  of  furniture,  and  in  one  cor- 


208 

ner  of  wliicli  stood  the  push-cart,  the  faithful  companion 
of  his  laborious  days. 

Presently  Bathsheba  discovered  a  three-legged  stool  and 
a  rudimentary  table  dimly  outlined  in  the  obscurity.  Sink 
ing  down  on  the  seat,  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and 
wept  silently. 

"  Ah !  you  have  found  the  arm-chair !  "  said  *Rn  Zion, 
now  assuming  a  cheerier  tone.  "  I  am  sure  that  you  will 
be  at  ease  there  !  And  now  to  put  the  child  in  the  cradle  ! " 

He  laid  the  human  mite  in  the  push-cart,  saying,  "  Don't 
squall,  or  the  wolves  will  get  you  !  You  shall  be  fed  soon, 
and  that  will  be  a  novelty  in  your  life  !  But  first  let  me 
get  breakfast  for  the  grown-folks." 

He  groped  beneath  the  table,  and  Bathsheba  sprang  up 
in  terror  as  she  heard  much  angry  squeaking,  and  knew 
that  the  rats  had  been  disturbed. 

"  Ungrateful  little  demons  ! "  said  the  pedler.  "  I  feed 
them  every  night,  and  yet  they  break  into  my  larder  and 
steal  my  provisions  when  I  am  out  leading  the  cloakmakers, 
or  rescuiug  poor  children.  Let  me  see  what  their  teeth  have 
left !  " 

He  drew  from  his  hidden  storehouse  a  small  piece  of 
bread  and  one  or  two  apples,  and  placed  them  gently  be 
fore  Bathsheba  on  the  primitive  table.  Then  he  set  the 
candle  so  that  its  feeble  rays  would  fall  upon  this  meagre 
repast. 

From  a  mouldy  cupboard  in  the  corner  he  took  a  small 
bottle  and  a  glass,  and  added  them  to  the  feast.  "  And  now," 
he  said,  "  if  you  would  only  condescend  to  eat  something  ! " 

Bathsheba  opened  her  eyes  and  dried  her  tears  as  best 
she  could. 

The  small  pedler's  face  shone  with  the  graciousness  of 
heartfelt  hospitality.  The  poor  woman  gained  courage, 
aud,  with  an  attempt  at  a  smile,  she  took  up  one  of  the 


THE   SWEATETl    SWEATED  209 

apples,  and  began  to  eat  it.  "  You  are  very  kind  to  me," 
she  said ;  "  but  we  must  not  forget  the  child." 

"  Not  I.  In  a  minute  or  two  I  am  going  to  get  it  some 
hot  milk  at  an  all-night  place  on  East  Broadway.  You  will 
not  be  afraid  to  sit  here  without  me  for  a  little  while  ?  I 
shall  not  be  long.  Or  —  that  would  be  better  —  look  here  ! " 

Ben  Zion  raised  the  candle  and  showed  Bathsheba  that 
she  was  seated  close  to  a  pine  partition,  which  had  evidently 
been  put  in  by  the  enterprising  landlord  for  the  purpose  of 
renting  to  two  tenants  a  wretched  cellar  barely  large  enough 
for  one. 

He  threw  open  a  small  door  in  this  partition,  and,  beck 
oning  to  Bathsheba,  he  said,  "  Come  and  look  in." 

Bathsheba  obeyed,  and  was  astonished  to  see  on  the 
other  side  of  the  partition  a  little  old  man,  with  a  face 
seamed  and  forehead  garnished  with  wrinkles,  seated  on  a 
bench  before  a  small  sewing-machine,  and  working  with 
astonishing  rapidity. 

The  tiny  room  or  hole  in  which  this  valiant  toiler  was 
lodged  had  but  one  small  window,  through  which  in  the 
daytime  only  a  few  rays  of  light  struggled  feebly  and 
timidly,  as  if  they  knew  that  they  were  intruders,  and  ex 
pected  to  be  expelled  as  soon  as  discovered. 

As  he  guided  the  garment  on  which  he  was  toiling  round 
and  round,  submitting  it  to  the  strokes  of  the  needle,  he 
was  crooning  to  himself  an  "Alleluia"  which  Bathsheba 
had  often  heard  sung  in  her  childhood,  and  which  David 
had  incorporated  in  one  of  the  history  plays  of  his  theatre. 

The  old  man  had  a  thin,  highly  pitched  falsetto  voice, 
which  rose  triumphant  above  the  click-clack  of  the  machine, 
and  seemed  to  give  to  the  needle's  work  a  kind  of  rhythmic 
grace. 

There  was  little  else  in  the  room  save  a  hard  bench  cov 
ered  with  a  few  rags,  on  which  the  old  man  evidently  re- 


210  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAH 

posed  when  he  could  no  longer  sit  at  the  machine.  An 
ancient  hair-cloth  trunk,  sprawling  open,  displayed  a  book 
or  two,  a  soiled  cravat,  a  few  bits  of  Oriental-looking  dra 
pery,  a  pair  of  liussian  top-boots,  and  a  fiat  cap  such  as  all 
"greenhorns"  wear  on  their  arrival. 

"  Well,  Father  Israel,"  cried  Ben  Zion,  "  I  see  you  are 
hard  at  it.  And  no  more  idea  than  usual,  I  suppose,  of 
what  is  going  on  in  the  outside  world  ?  I  thought  I  would 
give  you  a  little  air,  and  ask  you  to  keep  watch  on  my  place 
for  five  minutes,  while  I  run  out  on  an  errand.  I  have 
picked  up  a  foundling,  Father  Israel,  and  I  don't  want  any 
one  to  carry  it  off." 

"  Good  ! "  said  the  little  old  man,  without  looking  up. 
"Nursing  foundlings  is  pious  work,  but  'tis  wearing.  You 
didn't  happen  to  hear,  did  you,  what  the  play  is  at  David's 
theatre  to-morrow  night  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  it's  '  Ahasuerus.'  " 

"  Good ! "  The  old  man  arose,  and  showed  a  face  spark 
ling  with  enthusiasm.  "  That  is  the  play  of  all  plays  that 
I  wanted  to  see."  And  he  resumed  his  "Alleluia"  in  a 
louder  key,  took  a  few  turns  up  and  down  the  narrow 
cellar,  then  drank  a  little  water  from  an  earthen  pitcher, 
and  sat  down  at  the  machine  again. 

Click-clack  went  the  needles.  He  seemed  to  have  com 
pletely  forgotten  the  existence  of  his  neighbor,  Ben  Zion. 

"  That  old  dreamer  thinks  of  nothing  but  his  work  and 
his  theatre,"  said  Ben  Zion,  as  they  turned  away  from  the 
opening  in  the  partition.  "  He  works  sixteen  or  seventeen 
hours  a  day  for  six  dollars  a  week,  and  he  spends  at  least 
four  on  visits  to  the  theatre.  He  goes  to  see  the  history- 
plays  which  tell  the  story  of  the  Jews  when  they  were  a 
great  united  people,  and  he  has  got  so  that  he  lives  in  the 
past.  He  knows  more  about  Pharaoh  and  Joseph,  the 
Shulamite  and  Judith,  and  Mordecai  and  Esther,  than 


THE   SWEATER   SWEATED  211 

about  Harrison  and  Cleveland,  or  the  Czar  and  the  Pope  of 
Rome.  Well,  there  now !  I  suppose  the  old  fellow  finds 
his  present  so  disagreeable,  that  he  likes  to  take  refuge  in 
the  past.  Some  call  him  cracked,  but  I  don't  think  he  is." 

He  took  up  a  tin  pail  and  went  out,  leaving  Bathsheba 
alone  to  watch  the  shadows,  and  to  fancy,  every  time  the 
flicker  of  the  candle  changed  them,  that  they  were  huge 
rats  coming  to  besiege  her. 

The  "Alleluia"  of  Father  Israel  continued,  without  in 
terruption,  to  bring  into  its  grave  and  impressive  rhythm 
the  semi-staccato  of  the  sewing-machine  needle. 

Ben  Zion's  steps  were  turned  toward  the  all-night  restau 
rant,  where  the  announcement  of  complete  meals  for  thirteen 
cents,  including  two  glasses  of  beer,  had  often  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Health  Board,  when  he  heard  a  tre 
mendous  noise  of  confused  shouting  in  the  direction  of  the 
fire. 

He  listened  attentively,  and  a  grin  of  satisfaction  hovered 
about  his  lips.  "  It  sounds  like  a  battle,"  he  said.  "  The 
big  words  certainly  are  flying  about  as  thick  as  bombshells. 
Let's  see  what  they  mean." 

And,  forgetting  the  probably  urgent  needs  of  the  found 
ling  awaiting  him  in  the  push-cart  at  home,  he  ran  swiftly 
to  the  scene  of  the  fire. 

The  whole  side  of  the  house  near  which  he  had  met 
Bathsheba  had  fallen  in,  but  the  other  was  still  standing, 
with  portions  of  the  roof  clinging  to  it.  Ben  Zion  hastened 
to  the  front,  and  found  himself  in  a  throng  which  the  firemen 
and  policemen  were  pushing  back  with  ungentle  hand, 
because  the  clamorous  men  and  women  threatened  to  inter 
fere  with  the  work  of  isolating  the  fire. 

The  low  buildings  in  the  rear  of  the  yard  in  which 
Mother  Levitsky  had  breathed  her  last  were  now  burning, 


212  JOSEPH   ZALMONAK 

and  jagged  streaks  of  flame  were  shooting  from  them  to 
others.  With  axes  and  hammers  the  firemen  fought  des 
perately  to  hurl  down  the  blazing  beams,  so  that  their 
flames  could  be  smothered  in  the  mud  and  wet  ashes  below. 

As  Ben  Zion  arose,  after  having  been  carried  off  his  feet 
by  a  lurch  in  the  excited  throng,  he  observed  that  the  men, 
women,  and  children  were  all  yelling  at  and  execrating  one 
person,  —  the  miserable  landlord,  whom  he  had  supposed 
to  be  burned  in  his  own  apartment.  He  raised  his  hands 
and  clapped  them  with  glee,  and  danced  as  well  as  he  could 
in  such  a  dense  crowd. 

Of  two  or  three  thousand  persons  who  saw  the  plight  of 
Simon  at  that  moment,  there  were  not  three  who  would 
have  extended  to  him  a  helping  hand,  so  acute  was  the 
hatred  of  the  class  which  he  represented ;  so  lively  were 
the  remembrances  of  the  injustices  and  cruelties  which  he 
had  committed  in  the  name  of  his  property  ;  so  terrible  was 
the  animosity  against  him  since  the  eviction  of  Mother 
Levitsky. 

Simon  had  been  awakened  in  time  to  escape  from  his 
own  rooms,  and  had  hastened  to  the  rear  house,  in  which 
two  flourishing  sweaters  were  established.  In  the  cellar 
of  this  house  he  had  long  ago  buried  a  little  stock  of  money 
and  valuables,  declining,  with  the  cunning  and  suspicion 
of  his  class,  to  trust  to  safes  or  safe  deposit  companies. 

The  process  of  unearthing  this  was  almost  as  laborious 
as  that  of  old  Pepys  when  he  dug  up  his  concealed  money 
after  the  "  great  fire  "  in  London.  Time  fled  faster  than 
Simon  fancied,  and,  when  he  came  to  the  first  floor  and 
was  going  into  the  yard,  he  found  the  terrible  flames  raging 
directly  in  his  path. 

Above  him  toppled  the  wall  of  the  other  house,  obsti 
nately  refusing  to  share  the  fate  of  its  twin,  as  though 
it  had  been  reserved  for  some  peculiar  purpose. 


THE   SWEATER   SWEATED  213 

The  hot  breath  of  the  monster  came  full  into  Simon's 
face,  and  singed  his  unkempt  black  beard,  and  sent  a  horri 
ble  pang  through  his  eyeballs.  He  ran  up  to  the  second 
floor  of  the  low-studded,  rudely  built  house,  which  was 
filled  with  clothing,  and  would  burn  in  twenty  minutes 
when  the  flames  got  a  good  hold  on  it. 

Simon  intended  to  climb  from  a  back  window  of  this 
second  floor  on  to  the  roof  of  an  outhouse,  whence  he  could 
reach  the  street  in  the  rear.  But  as  he  threw  up  the  win 
dow  there  was  a  horrible  rush  of  hot  and  hissing  masses 
past  his  face  ;  then  came  clouds  of  blinding  steam,  produced 
by  the  torrents  of  water  falling  from  the  hose  of  the  engines 
upon  the  fiery  fragments  of  the  wall. 

At  last  he  could  look  up,  and  to  his  horror  he  saw  the 
wall  above  him  beginning  to  tremble  and  topple.  Another 
two  or  three  minutes  and  it  would  come  down  with  a  crash, 
and  bury  him  in  this  fragile  house  beneath  the  ruins. 

He  shrieked  wildly  in  the  extremity  of  his  terror.  Then 
he  extended  his  hands  and  prayed  ahmd.  Finally  he 
staggered  back  to  the  front  of  the  house,  to  find  that  its 
stairs  were  burned  away,  and  that  long  fiery  tentacles  had 
seized  upon  the  walls. 

The  roar  of  the  flames  was  louder  than  the  pulsations  of 
the  engines  or  the  shouting  of  the  motley  throng  gathered 
on  the  sides  of  the  now  open  courtyard. 

He  rushed  up  to  the  roof  of  the  house,  and  stood  glaring 
wildly  about,  tossing  his  hands  aloft,  and  praying.  Stand 
ing  thus,  his  cowering  figure  was  brought  in  bold  relief,  and 
the  crowd  saw  it,  and  saluted  it  with  a  shout  of  execration. 

Despite  Simon's  fiery  situation,  this  cry  sent  a  deathly 
chill  to  his  heart.  He  looked  down  at  the  yelling  people, 
and  extended  his  hands  to  them.  They  answered  with  a 
burst  of  derisive  laughter. 

"Stay  there  and  roast,  Simon!"  shouted  an  old  woman. 


214  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"  It  will  make  you  think  of  the  many  times  you  roasted  us 
in  your  sweater's  den,  before  you  got  to  be  a  rich  land 
lord  ! " 

"  Say  good-by  to  your  wife  and  children,  Simon  ! "  yelled 
a  bent  and  withered  man,  with  bloodshot  eyes  and  palsied 
gait.  "  They  are  saved  —  but  you  are  damned  !  " 

Tears  of  rage  and  despair  dimmed  Simon's  vision.  His 
knees  were  weak  now,  and  it  was  an  effort  to  hold  up  his 
hands.  At  last  he  managed  to  cry  feebly,  — 

"  I  won't  be  singed  alive  here  !  I  shall  come  down  and 
run  through  the  flames." 

"  Do,  Simon  !  Do  ! "  screamed  the  old  hag,  "  and  we  will 
throw  you  back  again !  You  must  burn,  Simon !  You  must 
burn ! " 

At  that  moment  the  wretched  landlord  saw  Joseph  rem 
onstrating  with  the  vindictive  old  woman,  and  he  heard 
him  shouting,  — 

"  After  all,  he  is  a  human  being  like  the  rest  of  us  !  I 
will  go  up  and  bring  him  down  !  " 

And  he  turned  to  rush  into  the  smoke  and  flame. 

"lam  saved,"  thought  Simon.-  "Joseph  will  save  me. 
But  perhaps  he  will  let  them  kill  me  afterwards." 

"  No !  No !  Joseph ;  you  shall  not  go ! "  howled  half  a  dozen 
of  Simon's  tenants,  and  they  threw  themselves  in  his  way. 
"  Let  the  villain  burn  ;  let  the  sweater  sweat  for  once,  and 
see  how  he  likes  it." 

Joseph  struggled  in  vain  with  the  furious  people. 

Suddenly  there  arose  a  vast  yell  of  triumph  and  exulta 
tion.  The  wall  overhanging  Simon,  and  towering  at  least 
fifty  feet  above  the  roof  on  which  he  stood,  was  falling. 

Simon  threw  up  his  arms  in  despair.  He  heard  the 
voices  of  firemen  calling  from  the  rear  of  the  building  to 
"come  and  jump  into  their  arms,"  and  telling  him  it  was 
"  his  only  chance." 


THE   SWEATER    SWEATED  215 

Then  there  was  a  shock  which  seemed  to  rend  him  limb 
from  limb,  a  horrible  sense  of  burning  and  suffocation, 
the  acute  lingering  in  his  ears  of  the  yells  of  vengeance 
from  the  thousands  in  the  street  below  —  and  the  mortal 
part  of  Simon  was  of  no  further  use  in  this  world. 

The  wall  had  crushed  in  the  smaller  building,  which  was 
now  obscured  from  view  by  the  dense  smoke  arising  from 
the  smouldering  piles  of  clothing. 

Joseph  turned  away,  sick  at  heart  and  trembling,  and 
would  have  fallen  if  Ben  Zion's  faithful  hands  had  not  just 
then  supported  him. 

"  It  is  horrible  ! "  he  said,  after  he  had  recovered  a  little. 
"  What  could  be  gained  for  our  cause  by  letting  that  poor 
fellow  be  burned  to  death  ?  " 

"  Ho,  ho  !  "  shouted  a  harsh  voice,  "  Herr  Joseph  has 
become  very  mild,  all  of  a  sudden  !  " 

Joseph  looked  up  and  saw  one  of  the  men  who  belonged 
to  Baumeister's  group,  a  loud-mouthed  Hebrew  who  had 
made  him  great  trouble  while  he  was  organizing  the  Union, 
by  constantly  trying  to  incite  the  cloakmakers  to  violence. 

"  I  don't  think  we  require  your  opinions  on  the  matter," 
he  said  curtly,  and  turned  away. 

"  Oh,  indeed !  "  cried  the  fellow,  pushing  his  way  up  to 
Joseph,  and  eying  him  rudely.  "  Why,  you  change  about 
like  a  weathercock  !  Look  here,  all  of  you  ! "  he  continued, 
flourishing  his  arms  and  apostrophizing  the  crowd.  "This 
is  the  same  Joseph  who  counselled  burning  Simon  alive 
once  —  on  the  night  that  old  Mother  Levitsky  died  —  who 
doesn't  remember  that?  And  now  he  pretends  that  he 
doesn't  want  his  own  counsels  to  be  followed  !  Ho,  ho !  " 

He  would  have  said  more,  but  Ben  Zion  suddenly  brought 
his  tin  pail  with  metallic  twang  upon  his  head,  causing  him 
to  jump  and  roar  with  pain ;  and  at  the  same  moment  the 
prancing  horses  of  the  fire-engines  coming  up  put  the 


216  JOSEPH    ZALMONA1I 

whole  crowd  into  a  scamper,  and  Ben  Zion  lost  sight  of 
both  Joseph  and  his  violent  critic. 

Then  the  little  pedler  was  smitten  with  remorse  that 
he  had  forgotten  his  errand  of  mercy  for  the  foundling,  and 
he  started  off  at  a  brisk  trot  to  get  the  battered  tin  pail 
full  of  hot  milk. 

When  he  reached  the  cellar  again  he  found  Bathsheba 
seated  where  he  had  left  her,  with  the  child  upon  her  lap. 
She  was  vainly  endeavoring  to  still  its  moaning,  and  at  the 
same  time  was  intently  studying  its  face. 

Ben  Zion's  torrent  of  explanation,  and  the  feverish  haste 
with  which  he  presented  the  hot  milk  in  a  cracked  glass, 
did  not  seem  to  attract  Bathsheba's  notice.  She  was 
absorbed. 

"Is  the  brat  good-looking  ?  "  said  the  pedler  ;  "  I  suppose 
I  must  find  some  one  to  adopt  it  to-day." 

"  I  was  thinking,"  said  Bathsheba  dreamily,  "  how  won 
derfully  this  child  resembles  Baumeister.  Look  !  There  is 
his  identical  expression  when  he  is  excited !  It  is  very 
curious  ! " 

"  Hum  ! "  said  Ben  Zion.  He  took  a  careful  look.  "  You 
are  right.  The  child  is  a  second  edition  of  Baumeister, 
wicked  smile  and  all !  Now,  how  shall  we  account  for 
that  ?  " 

"  We  will  not  try,  just  now,"  said  Bathsheba,  and  she  fed 
the  hungry  child. 

Old  Father  Israel  was  still  singing  and  sewing  in  the 
next  room,  and  his  "  Alleluia  "  arose  sweet  and  clear. 


THE  MARSEILLAISE   OF   THE  POOR  217 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

a 

THE    MARSEILLAISE    OF    THE    POOR 

"  HUSH  !  "  said  a  deep  resonant  voice  which  every  one  in 
the  theatre  recognized  as  Joseph's.  "  Mordecai  Menzer  is 
going  to  sing." 

The  play  that  night  was  "  Ezra, "  a  romantic  drama 
which  dealt  with  the  persecutions  of  the  Jews  in  Russian 
Poland.  It  was  played  with  intense  earnestness,  although 
the  heat  was  stifling,  and  it  was  a  night  to  be  in  the  open 
air,  rather  than  at  a  theatre. 

There  was  a  wicked  noble  in  it,  who  wished  to  carry  off 
an  old  Jew's  daughter,  and  who,  by  the  aid  of  a  cunning 
priest,  fastened  upon  the  venerable  Hebrew  and  his  pretty 
Rebecca  the  dread  accusation  —  still  as  terrible  in  some 
parts  of  Europe  as  it  was  in  the  Middle  Ages  —  that  they 
had  slain  a  young  Christian  child,  to  use  the  blood  in  their 
mystical  sacrifices. 

The  old  man  and  his  child  were  dragged  to  prison ;  and 
then  came  Ezra,  the  deliverer,  a  banished  patriot  returned 
to  his  native  land  to  organize  insurrection. 

There  was  a  striking  scene  in  which  Ezra  assembled  the 
young  men  and  maidens  in  a  desolate  field  covered  with 
snow,  and  there  made  them  swear  vengeance  against  the 
oppressor.  This  scene  closed  with  the  singing  of  religious 
melodies,  and  there  was  a  chorus  ending  with  "  Alleluia," 
sung  by  a  dozen  maidens,  who  looked  not  unlike  the  old 


218  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

pictures  of  angels,  as  they  knelt  with  folded  hands  and  eyes 
raised  heavenward. 

This  chorus  thrilled  Joseph  to  his  very  soul,  as  he  sat  in 
the  darkened  corner  of  the  same  box  in  which  he  had  wit 
nessed  the  performance  of  "  Judith  and  Holofernus  ;  "  and 
the  whole  drama,  with  its  strange  and  bitter  savor  of  patri 
otism,  seemed  to  invite  him  to  action. 

There  were  phrases  in  Ezra's  speech  which  stirred  his 
soul  like  a  trumpet. 

Now  the  curtain  had  fallen  on  the  third  act,  and  Joseph 
came  forward  to  announce  that  Mordecai,  the  "  poet  of  the 
people,"  was  to  sing  the  great  song  which  might  awaken, 
the  cloak  makers  to  instant  action. 

As  for  Baumeister,  cowering  in  a  humble  place  in  the 
gallery,  his  eyes  glistened  with  the  hope  that  the  poet's 
song  might  influence  the  hunger-tortured  throng  to  fall 
upon  their  employers,  or  upon  any  one  else  who  came  in 
their  way,  and  to  hack,  burn,  and  destroy. 

After  Joseph's  announcement  there  was  a  great  clapping 
of  hands  and  waving  of  handkerchiefs  ;  and  presently  Mor 
decai  came  in  front  of  the  curtain,  and  stood,  rather  tim 
idly,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  his  "  inspiration." 

The  sight  of  this  little  man,  worn  by  sorrow,  and  with 
his  lean,  angular  face  furrowed  by  thought,  was  inexpress 
ibly  pathetic  to  Joseph,  who  recognized  in  him  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  people. 

But  to  the  rank  and  file  of  the  audience  it  was  a  trifle 
disappointing,  and  whispers  and  suppressed  laughter  were 
heard  while  the  poet  shuffled  about,  looking  at  the  foot 
lights. 

At  last  he  held  up  his  hand,  and  the  orchestra  struck 
into  the  singular  air  which  Joseph  at  once  recognized  as 
that  which  lie  had  heard  the  small  fiddler  play  at  the 
rehearsal  of  the  song. 


THE   MARSEILLAISE   OF   THE   POOR  219 

Then  Mordecai  began  to  sing.  He  threw  his  head  back, 
raised  his  arms,  and  waved  them  violently,  as  if  he  were 
hurling  upon  the  audience  the  ringing  ironical  sentences  in 
which  he  denounced  the  sweaters,  and  expressed  compas 
sion  for  their  prey. 

Before  the  first  verse  was  finished  one  or  two  of  the 
"sweaters"  who  had  been  skulking  in  boxes  arose,  and 
tried  to  make  their  exits  without  attracting  attention. 

But  they  were  observed,  and  one  of  them  was  caught  and 
buffeted.  His  hat  was  smashed  over  his  eyes,  his  clothes 
were  torn,  and,  expostulating  and  cursing  by  turns,  he  was 
pushed  headlong  out  of  the  theatre. 

Others,  following,  escaped  with  nothing  worse  than  exe 
cration.  One  man  shook  his  fist  in  the  sweater's  face  and 
shouted,  "Ah,  we  feel  very  uncomfortable  just  now,  don't 
we  ?  as  the  devil  said  when  he  was  crossing  the  river  on 
the  ice  and  broke  through  !  " 

It  was  Ben  Zion. 

Mordecai  had  warmed  to  his  task  when  the  third  verse 
was  reached,  and  he  delivered  it  with  terrible  emphasis. 
An  old  white-haired  man  in  the  orchestra  laid  down  his 
violin  and  sobbed  aloud. 

His  sobs  were  contagious.  The  poor  overworked  girls  in 
the  side  seats  burst  into  weeping  when  the  lines  alluding 
to  their  dreadful  fate  were  recited,  rather  than  sung,  in  a 
kind  of  frenzy. 

Presently  sighs  and  groans  were  heard  from  all  parts  of 
the  house,  and  from  the  gallery  came  the  sound  of  curses. 
Then  all  at  once  a  sharp  voice  cried  in  jargon,  with  the 
unctuous  gutturals  and  languorous  drawling  of  the  un 
learned  man,  — 

"  That's  song  enough  !  We  know  exactly  what  we  have 
to  do  now.  Come  on,  comrades,  and  let's  end  this  business! 
Those  who  remain  slaves  any  longer  deserve  to  be  kept  in 
slavery  forever  !  Come  on  !  " 


220  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Joseph  thought  that  the  voice  sounded  like  Baumeister's, 
but  he  was  too  excited  to  be  certain,  and  he  had  no 
chance  to  investigate.  For  suddenly  the  whole  audience, 
almost  entirely  composed  of  the  starving  cloakmakers  and 
their  families,  arose,  as  actuated  by  a  common  impulse,  and 
poured  into  the  street,  leaving  Mordecai  panting  and  gasp 
ing  in  front  of  the  curtain,  and  the  actors  half  crazy  with 
curiosity  in  their  nooks  in  the  wings. 

Mordecai  had  done  more  than  he  expected  to  do.  The 
cloakmakers  had  made  the  most  extraordinary  sacrifices  to 
be  present  on  this  occasion.  It  was  out  of  season  for 
theatres,  but  they  had  determined  to  make  the  affair  im 
posing  by  a  full  attendance. 

They  were  in  an  exalted  and  dangerous  frame  of  mind, 
and  the  few  incendiary  words  which  Baumeister  scattered 
among  them  as  they  ran  to  and  fro  in  the  Bowery  were 
like  coals  of  fire  applied  to  tow  ;  or,  as  Ben  Zion  afterwards 
described  them,  "like  upsetting  a  kerosene  stove  in  a 
tenement  house." 

The  sparks  flew  and  the  flame  grew. 

A  small  number  of  the  spectators  returned,  but  the 
interest  of  both  audience  and  actors  was  now  diminished  in 
the  fictitious  drama.  All  had  concentrated  their  attention 
upon  the  real  drama,  which  they  knew  to  be  near  at  hand. 

Joseph  went  out  into  the  Bowery,  and  found  himself  con 
fronted  by  a  tall  policeman,  who  scowled  at  him  and  stood 
in  his  way. 

Joseph's  blood  was  hot,  and  he  returned  the  scowl  with 
interest.  "  Look  here,  young  feller,"  said  the  majestic  man 
of  buttons,  "your  people's  gettin'  excited.  Why  don't 
you  call  them  off  home  ?  We  can't  be  lettin'  them  block 
up  the  street  like  this." 

"Well,  unblock  it  then —  that's  what  you  are  paid  to 
do ! "  said  Joseph. 


THE   MARSEILLAISE   OF   THE   POOR  221 

"Maybe  so,"  remarked  the  policeman,  grinning.  "But 
it's  just  as  well  to  let  you  know  that  if  there's  any  chance 
of  a  riot,  the  broken  heads'll  be  mostly  on  your  side. 
Tell  'em  to  run  along  home  now,  like  a  good  feller." 

Joseph  was  too  wild  with  rage  to  reply.  But  he  went 
out  and  wandered  aw-ay  from  the  crowd,  thinking  of  what 
he  had  heard  Freier  say  about  the  very  poor  chances  of  a 
labor  riot  in  New  York  City. 

He  never  could  exactly  remember  where  he  spent  the 
rest  of  that  night.  It  was  as  much  a  blank  to  him  as  if  he 
had  been  intoxicated,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  his  many  bitter 
reflections,  so  turbulent  were  his  emotions. 

He  only  knew  that  when  morning  came,  bringing  the 
sickening  heat  of  a  brazen  July  day,  he  was  tottering,  faint 
and  sick,  along  one  of  the  side  streets  in  the  cloakmakers' 
quarter,  and  heard  that  great  crowds  were  gathering  in 
Ludlow  Street,  in  Hester  Street,  in  East  Broadway,  in  all 
the  avenues  where  hunger  had  for  weeks  been  spreading 
its  reckless  counsels. 

'•'  They  are  going  to  make  a  rush  for  Freier  and  Monach's 
to-day,  "  said  the  man  who  informed  him  about  the  crowds  ; 
"and  they  say  that  if  you  don't  lead  them  they  will  go 
without  you." 

Joseph  raised  his  drooping  head.  "  I  will  lead  them,"  he 
said,  "  if  only  to  keep  them  out  of  mischief.  And  it  is 
right  that  this  matter  should  be  settled  once  for  all.  We 
can  starve  no  longer." 

He  went  home  to  find  committee-men  seated  on  his  door 
step  and  sullenly  awaiting  him.  Malcha  wrung  her  hands 
in  despair  at  his  forlorn  condition,  and  at  the  exciting 
rumors  every  few  minutes  brought  in.  "Where  have  you 
been  all  night,  Joseph  ?  "  she  said  as  she  brought  him  a 
cup  of  tea. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  replied  with  such  frankness  that  she 


222  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

stared  and  peered  curiously  at  him.  "  I  have  been  wander 
ing —  getting  ready — ready  for  the  storm." 

Malcha  began  to  cry,  and  this  aroused  Joseph  to  comfort 
and  reassure  her. 

He  had  not  been  at  home  an  hour  when  a  man  came 
running  in,  breathless  with  excitement,  crying,  — 

"  They  are  all  going  to  march,  and  they  want  you,  Herr 
Zalmonah.  They  mean  to  pull  Freier  out  of  his  den  "  — 

"Tell  them  not  to  make  a  move  — on  their  peril  —  until 
they  have  seeu  me ! "  said  Joseph,  resuming  his  leadership. 

A  little  later  he  was  in  a  small  restaurant  in  a  side  street 
not  far  from  Broadway,  talking  with  an  intelligent  cloak- 
maker  who  had  volunteered  to  help  him  hold  the  crowds  in 
check,  when  he  heard  a  tumult  outside. 

The  old  women  began  to  run  to  and  fro,  and  hurl  their 
skinny  fists  aloft  —  as  certain  a  symbol  of  coming  mischief 
among  the  Russo-Jewish  refugees  of  to-day  in  New  York 
as  it  was  in  ancient  Israel. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  blood-curdling  chorus  of  yells,  and 
a  dozen  men  came  running  up,  and  dragging  along,  and 
beating  as  they  went,  a  poor  f -How  whose  clothes  were 
torn  to  rags,  and  whose  cheeks  were  livid  with  fear  of 
death. 

For  he  read  murder  in  the  eyes  of  his  captors. 

"  He's  a  scab  ! "  yelled  one  of  the  men,  hopping  around 
him  like  a  bird  of  prey.  "  A  scab,  a  loafer  of  a  scab !  We 
caurjht  him  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  Freier  and  Monach'^  ! 
Whit  shall  we  do  with  him?"  And  he  shook  his  lean 
fingers  in  the  victim's  face. 

"Kill  him!  Kill  him!"  was  the  fierce  response,  roared 
by  a  hundred  voices.  And  away  down  the  street,  where  the 
people  did  not  know  what  was  going  on,  they  took  up  the 
refrain,  and  shouted,  "Kill  him  !  Kill  him  !  " 

The  unhappy  man  fell  on  his  knees  and  grovelled  in  the 


THE  MARSEILLAISE   OF   THE   POOR  223 

dust.  "  Don't  let  them  kill  me  ! "  he  cried,  wringing  his 
hands  and  crawling  to  the  right  and  left.  "  I  have  a  wife 
and  children  in  Russia." 

"  Kill  him  !  "  cried  a  captor,  aiming  a  terrible  blow  at 
his  head5. 

At  this  moment  the  ranks  parted,  and  Joseph  appeared 
on  the  scene.  He  pushed  the  aggressive  man  rudely  away. 

"  Why  are  you  fighting  among  yourselves  ?  "  he  said. 
"  Have  we  not  trouble  enough  already  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  scab,  a  wretched  scab  ! "  said  the  man  sullenly, 
pointing  to  the  kneeling  figure.  "He  said  to  me,  'I  get 
twenty-five  dollars  a  week,  and  you  are  living  on  cabbages 
and  boiled  shoe-strings  because  you  are  a  fool.'  Do  you 
think  I  will  let  him  talk  that  way  ?  I  say  kill  him  !" 

He  raised  his  arm  again,  and  his  fellows  prepared  to  join 
him  in  a  mad  rush  upon  the  unfortunate  "scab." 

"  And  I  say  not  !  "  cried  Joseph  loudly,  and  advancing  on 
the  men.  "  Do  you  wish  to  ruin  your  own  cause  ?  " 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  Herr  Zalmonah,"  said  the  man, 
falling  back  again.  "  I  think  you  are  foolish  !  " 

And  now  there  were  fresh  tumults  in  all  directions,  as 
other  "  scabs  "  were  captured  and  were  surrounded  by  the 
locked-out  cloakmakers. 

Joseph  rushed  to  and  fro,  trying  to  save  the  men  from 
being  beaten.  But  he  felt  sick  at  heart  when  he  saw  them 
laying  about  with  broken  heads,  and  noticed  that  one  of 
\  them  was  kicked  into  the  gutter,  as  if  he  had  been  a  dog. 

Then  there  was  a  rush  and  a  chorus  of  imprecations  from 
the  men  and  wailing  from  the  women  as  a  compact  body  of 
roughly  dressed  fellows  came  sweeping  down  the  narrow 
street. 

One  or  two  of  them  carried  drawn  revolvers ;  others  were 
equipped  with  stout  cudgels ;  and  although  they  bore  no  in 
signia  of  authority,  they  acted,  as  Ben  Zion  remarked,  as 


224  JOSEPH    ZALMONAII 

"  if  they  had  just  bought  the  town,  and  wanted  all  the  room 
in  it  for  themselves." 

A  few  of  the  cloakmakers  tried  to  stop  their  onward 
movement,  whereupon  the  new-comers  charged  with  their 
clubs,  and  a  dozen  of  the  locked-out  men  fell  into  the  dust. 
Then  the  assailants  began  to  gather  up  the  wounded  and 
frightened  "  scab  "  workmen  and  protect  their  retreat. 

"  The  Pinkertons  !  "  cried  Joseph  bitterly.  "  So  that  is 
Freier  and  Monach's  little  game  !  " 

He  looked  around  him  and  saw  that  in  all  directions 
there  were  dense  throngs  of  his  own  people.  This  little 
handful  of  Pinkertons,  these  modern  swash-bucklers,  whose 
services  had  been  secured  by  a  manufacturer  who  did  not 
wish  to  be  coerced  to  do  right,  would  be  swallowed  up  in  a 
twinkling  of  an  eye  if  he  were  to  give  the  signal. 

Crack !  That  was  the  sound  of  a  revolver !  Joseph  saw 
one  of  his  own  men  fall,  and  the  man's  wife  throw  herself, 
shrieking  and  weeping,  upon  his  body. 

The  man  was  shot  .through  the  arm;  he  sat  up  after  a 
little,  and  began  to  curse  loudly. 

While  Joseph  was  looking  on  at  the  fight,  and  was  still 
irresolute  as  to  his  own  conduct,  a  sharp  voice  full  of  hate 
cried,  close  beside  him, — 

"  A  nice  leader  you  are,  helping  the  Pinkertons  to  rescue 
scabs  !  Yes  !  a  nice  leader !  I  am  more  than  half  inclined 
to  think  you  are  a  Pinkerton  yourself." 

Joseph  looked  up  in  astonishment.  He  found  himself 
confronted  by  a  group  of  low-browed  and  sinister  fellows, 
wliom  he  at  once  recognized  as  Socialistic  malcontents. 

He  thought  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  Baumeister's  face  just 
behind  them.  But  when  he  took  a  second  and  sharper  look 
the  face  was  gone. 

Some  of  these  men  had  at  one  time  belonged  to  his 
Union,  and  had  dropped  out  of  it  —  this  one  for  non- 


THE   MARSEILLAISE    OF   THE   POOR  225 

payment  of  dues,  another  because  he  found  the  atmos 
phere  uncongenial,  a  third  because  Joseph  would  not  set 
a  day  for  the  Grand  Revolution.  He  had  reason  to  believe 
that  they  were  all  active,  malevolent  enemies,  who  would 
not  hesitate  to  put  him  in  a  false  position  if  they  could. 

He  stepped  back  a  little  and  gazed  contemptuously  at  his 
accuser.  "  What  have  you  done,"  he  said,  "  which  gives 
you  any  right  to  criticise  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  false  leader  ! "  shouted  another.  "  You  want 
to  sell  out  the  cause ! " 

"  Yes  ;  you  are  in  league  with  the  Pinkertons  !"  yelled  a 
little  man  with  iron-bowed  spectacles  and  a  long  beard. 

"  You  were  seen  talking  to  Freier  not  long  ago.  You  are 
a  spy  !  You  ought  to  be  crushed  !  "  howled  a  hunchback, 
whose  only  garments  were  a  pair  of  summer  trousers  and 
an  old  winter  overcoat  with  a  moth-eaten  fur  collar. 

Just  then  Joseph  felt  a  gentle  touch  on  his  arm.  He 
looked  down,  and  saw  the  sweet  girl-figure  of  Miry  am 
at  his  side.  Instinctively  he  moved  forward  so  as  to  place 
himself  in  front  of  her,  and  to  shelter  her  in  case  the  mis 
siles  began  to  fly. 

Miryam  looked  up  at  him,  and  he  saw  that  she  was  vio 
lently  agitated.  "Come  away,"  she  whispered;  "these  are 
the  very  people  about  whom  I  told  you.  They  mean  to  do 
you  a  mischief.  Don't  expose  yourself  to  be  killed,  Reb 
Joseph  ;  please  don't." 

Thei'e  was  such  a  tremor  in  Miryam's  voice,  that  Joseph 
looked  down  in  surprise  into  the  pure  little  face,  and  was 
startled  at  the  depth  of  tenderness  and  emotion  which  he 
noted  there.  "  Come  away,  Miryam  ! "  he  said.  "  These 
men  are  mad,  I  think !  Surely  nobody  will  believe  their 
ravings." 

"  Ah  !  he's  backing  out !  He's  running  away  !  "  yelled  the 
conspirators,  in  chorus.  "  Look  at  brave  Reb  Joseph  run- 


226  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

ning  for  his  life  !  Watch  the  deliverer  of  scabs  as  he  makes 
his  retreat ! "  and  a  fragment  of  a  broken  chair,  which  one 
of  the  men  had  picked  up  in  the  street,  whizzed  past 
Joseph's  ear. 

"Cowards  ! "  said  the  young  leader,  trembling  with  right 
eous  wrath,  "do  you  want  to  tempt  me?  You  know  that 
if  I  say  the  word,  there  are  within  call  twenty  thousand 
hands  to  tear  you  in  pieces  !  Be  off,  or  it  will  be  the  worse 
for  you ! " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha ! "  laughed  the  little  hunchback  hoarsely, 
"Reb  Joseph  thinks  that  he  still  has  an  army  at  his 
back  !  He  will  change  his  mind  when  the  cloakmakers  have 
all  been  told  that  he  is  the  defender  of  scabs  !"  And  the 
misshapen  man  seized  an  old  bottle  and  hurled  it  with  mad 
force  at  Joseph ! 

But  just  then  Ben  Zion  came  running  up,  and  leaped  like 
a  tiger  cat  upon  the  hunchback,  and  rolled  him  in  the  dirt. 
"  Run,  Joseph  ! "  he  cried,  as  he  came  uppermost  for  the 
second  time,  pounding  his  man  all  the  time;  "run  to  the 
head  of  the  column  !  They  are  waiting  for  you,  and  they 
are  not  afraid  of  the  Finkertons  !  " 

"  Ho,  ho  !  "  laughed  another  of  the  conspirators,  "  Joseph 
won't  lead  any  column  to-day."  And  he  and  his  fellows 
picked  up  some  loose  brickbats  and  stones  at  a  corner,  and 
hastened  forward. 

"  Fly,  Joseph ! "  shrieked  Miryam. 

"  Never  !  I  will  rout  all  these  dogs  single-handed;  "  and 
he  sprang  forward  to  fulfil  his  threat.  At  that  instant  there 
was  a  shower  of  heavy  missiles,  and  he  saw  Miryam  placing 
herself  directly  in  front  of  him.  A  moment  later  her  fair 
young  head  sank  heavily. 

A  stone  had  struck  her  as  she  stood  thus  shielding  her 
beloved  leader. 

She  fell,  face  downward. 


THE   MARSEILLAISE   OF   THE   POOR  227 

Joseph  felt  himself  pulled  violently  backward,  and  in  a 
minute  or  two  he  had  lost  sight  of  the  angry  conspirators, 
and  was  surrounded  by  his  own  men. 

"  Miry  am  !  Miry  am  !  save  her  !  "  he  gasped. 

But  the  men  and  women  did  not  seem  to  hear  him.  The 
names  of  Freier  and  Monach  were  the  only  ones  which  he 
heard,  and  they  were  repeated  over  and  over,  in  hoarse  and 
savage  refrain. 

"  You  are  bleeding,  Herr  Zalmonah,"  said  one  of  the  men, 
pointing  to  his  forehead.  "  Something  has  hit  you  on  the 
head.  Was  it  a  Pinkerton  who  did  it  ?  " 

Joseph  felt  faint  and  half  stunned,  now  that  the  excite 
ment  of  the  encounter  with  the  Socialists  was  beginning  to 
subside.  He  took  out  his  handkerchief  and  mopped  his 
brow.  In  so  doing  he  discovered  that  he  had  received  a 
severe  flesh  wound. 

An  old  woman  bandaged  his  head,  and  another  ran  out 
of  a  tenement  house  with  a  little  pot  of  hot  coffee,  and  gave 
Joseph  a  drink,  after  which  he  felt  better. 

But  the  sun  was  now  beating  down  with  terrific  force, 
and  he  saw  that  it  would  soon  melt  and  subdue  the  courage 
of  the  half-starved  people  whose  rights  he  was  about  to 
assert ;  so  he  staggered  forward,  saying,  — 

"  Get  all  the  officers  of  the  Union  together,  and  we  will 
go  to  Freier  and  Monach's." 

A  tremendous  shout  rent  the  air. 

The  women  screamed  and  flocked  around  Joseph,  and  laid 
caressing  hands  upon  his  arm,  as  if  they  wished  to  acquire 
courage  by  touching  the  garments  of  the  prophet  and  leader. 

In  a  few  minutes  all  the  men  had  assembled,  and  Ben 
Zion  had  joined  the  group,  without  asking  leave  or  license. 

"  You  cannot  have  the  fun  without  me,  as  the  fox  said 
to  the  hounds,"  he  remarked  in  a  whisper,  as  the  great 
crowd  began  to  press  forward  to  the  den  of  the  oppressors. 


228  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

It  was  eight  o'clock,  and  Freier  and  Monaeh's  shop  above 
their  counting-house  had  been  humming  with  industry  for 
hours,  when  the  advance  guard  of  the  locked-out  cloak- 
makers  arrived  in  front  of  their  doors. 

The  manufacturers  had  been  warned  of  the  uprising,  and 
a  line  of  policemen  stood  quietly  ready  to  guard  their 
property  if  need  arose. 

Freier  had  heard  that  Joseph  was  disabled,  if  not  killed, 
in  the  Socialistic  riot,  about  the  origin  and  purposes  of 
which  his  spies  had  brought  him  reports;  and  he  was 
amazed  when  he  learned  from  a  burly  guardian  of  the  peace 
that  a  committee  "  of  them  Jews  was  waiting  to  talk  to 
him." 

He  flushed  angrily,  then  grew  white,  and  lighted  one  of 
his  huge  black  cigars.  "  Mind  that  your  fellows  stand  firm 
if  they  try  to  rush  the  place,"  he  said  to  the  policeman. 
"  You  don't  know  them  when  they  get  excited.  They  are 
devils ! " 

"  Most  of  them  look  this  inornin'  as  if  a  breath  would 
blow  them  away,"  remarked  the  policeman,  with  a  con 
temptuous  glance  at  Freier. 

"  Let  those  fellows  in,"  snarled  Freier,  showing  his  teeth, 
and  looking  so  very  like  a  wolf  that  the  officer  retreated 
precipitately. 

Joseph  and  his  men  were  soon  before  Freier.  "  I 
thought,"  said  the  latter  with  a  grin,  "  that  you  were  not 
coming  again  to  see  me." 

"  My  people  changed  their  minds,"  said  Joseph,  "  and  I 
am  only  their  agent.  They  say  that  unless  you  do  them 
justice  this  morning, — now,  within  the  hour, — they  will 
come  in  here  and  see  you  for  themselves.  You  know  ex 
actly  what  we  want !  Are  you  ready  to  let  us  have  it  ? 
No  ?  Then  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  turn  my  mission 
over  to  them." 


THE   MARSEILLAISE   OF   THE   POOR  229 

"Hold  on  a  minute!  "said  Freier,  in  a  voice  hoarse  with 
passion.  "Before  you  begin  to  dictate,  let  me  tell  you  one 
thing.  If  you  raise  your  voice  to  me,  I  will  have  you 
arrested  and  run  in  for  attempted  assault !  Look  at  that 
line  of  blue  coats  out  there!  " 

"  Fool ! "  exclaimed  Joseph,  snapping  his  fingers  in 
Freier's  face.  "Do  you  know  what  would  happen  if  you 
should  so  much  as  lay  a  finger  on  me  ?  Here  !  step  up 
stairs  and  look  down  on  the  crowd  from  the  front  window. 
Up  !  We  will  accompany  you,  and  you  can  tell  us  what 
you  think." 

He  pushed  the  hesitating  Freier  to  the  stairs.  In  a  few 
moments  they  stood  overlooking  the  great  assemblage  of 
starving  men  and  women. 

It  was  a  piteous  spectacle,  and  touched  even  Freier's  hard 
heart. 

There  were  long  rows  of  old  men  sweltering  in  the  hot 
felt  caps  and  coats  in  which  they  had  left  Russia,  and  look 
ing  ready  to  drop  down  into  their  graves.  There  were  hun 
dreds  of  bent  and  shrivelled  old  women,  shaking  their 
heads  menacingly.  There  were  whole  regiments  of  thin, 
black-whiskered,  pallid-faced  men  of  middle  age,  with  chil 
dren  clinging  at  their  coat  skirts,  and  with  slattern  and 
woe-begone  wives,  pinched  with  hunger  and  tormented  by 
despair,  crouching  behind  them. 

And  all  these  forlorn  creatures  were  pushed  forward 
resistlessly  by  the  bony  hand  of  Hunger. 

They  were  ready  for  the  assault. 

Freier  felt  this,  and  was  afraid.     He  shivered. 

"  Open  the  window,"  said  Joseph  calmly. 

Freier  obeyed,  cursing  inwardly.  He  did  not  dare  to 
refuse. 

The  moment  he  showed  his  face  there  was  a  yell  of 
execration  which  made  him  feel  cold  about  his  heart.  His 
knees  trembled. 


230  JOSEPH    ZALMONAII 

Joseph  pushed  him  aside,  as  if  lie  were  a  child,  and,  call 
ing  his  committee-men,  he  said,  — 

"  Take  out  the  window-sash,  top  and  bottom  !  " 

"  In  God's  name  !  "  said  Freier. 

"  Silence  !  "  shouted  Joseph.  lu  a  few  seconds  the  window 
was  removed.  "  Now,"  said  Joseph  to  his  men,  "  Freier 
and  I  will  stand  together  in  the  open  space,  and  you  may 
stand  behind  us." 

"  I  will  see  that  Freier  does  not  get  away ! "  whispered 
Ben  Zion. 

The  young  leader  was  saluted  by  a  ringing  shout,  in 
stantly  followed  by  a  second  outburst  of  execrations  for 
Freier. 

The  "scabs"  who  had  been  at  work  within  crowded  up 
to  see  this  curious  spectacle,  and  the  policemen  below 
listened  eagerly. 

The  vast  throng  of  the  cloakmakers  stood,  open-mouthed, 
awaiting  developments. 

"Now,  Freier,"  said  Joseph,  "justice  must  be  done.  I 
am  going  to  announce  it  in  your  name.  If  you  contradict 
and  belie  me,  you  must  take  the  consequences." 

Freier  said  nothing,  but  his  knees  continued  to  tremble. 

"Fellow-workers,"  said  Joseph,  lifting  up  his  voice. 
"Freier  and  Monach  are  anxious  to  come  to  an  under 
standing  with  you,  and  to  stop  all  the  misery  and  misfor 
tune  w4iich  the  lock-out  has  caused." 

A  murmur  of  incredulity  ran  through  the  throncr. 

"  And  now,  Herr  Freier "  —  a-t  this  point  Ben  Zion 
pushed  him  violently  forward,  eliciting  from  him  an  nndi- 
ble  groan  of  terror  —  "desires  to  inform  you  that  the  lock 
out  is  at  an  end." 

Freier  groaned  again,  whereupon  Ben  Zion  thumped  him 
terribly  in  the  back. 

"  At  an  end  —  the  lock-out !     And  he  is  ready  to  sign  an 


THE   MARSEILLAISE   OF   THE  POOR  231 

agreement  with  us  to  secure  you  in  your  rights  hereafter. 
He,  and  the  association  which  he  represents,  will  accept 
nine  hours  as  a  day's  work  —  and  you  shall  have  one  full 
hour  for  dinner.  In  the  three  summer  months  there  shall 
be  a  Saturday  half-holiday  ;  wages  shall  be  increased  from 
twenty -five  to  forty  per  cent ;  there  shall  be  no  over-time 
without  pay ;  and  Herr  Freier  and  his  association  pledge 
themselves  to  do  everything  in  their  power  to  abolish  the 
sweating-system  !  And  this  new  condition  of  affairs  shall 
begin  at  once  !  Do  I  quote  you  correctly  ?  "  said  Joseph, 
turning  politely  to  Freier. 

"  Yes  —  yes,"  answered  the  frightened  man,  on  whose 
back  Ben  Ziou  had  just  given  another  powerful  blow; 
"anything,  everything  !  You  are  the  masters,  and  if  you 
ruin  us,  we  can  close  up,  I  suppose  ! " 

"  Then  tell  the  people  that  we  are  agreed,"  said  Joseph. 

Freier  managed  to  stammer  forth  a  few  words,  announ 
cing  the  "end  of  the  lock-out  —  brisk  season  coming 
soon,"  and  then  would  have  fallen  back,  had  not  Ben  Zion 
propped  him  up. 

"  You  can  all  go  home  now,"  said  Joseph  to  the  throng. 
"  The  agreement  will  be  signed  to-day ;  you  can  go  back  to 
work  to-morrow.  Do  you  hear  ?  Move  off  at  once  —  to 
your  homes.  I  say  the  Union  has  won  the  fight!  You 
shall  starve  no  more  !" 

There  went  up  a  scream,  rather  than  a  shout  of  triumph, 
and  the  upturned  faces  beamed  with  joy  and  with  grat 
itude. 

Hundreds  of  voices  cried  thanks  and  praises  to  Joseph, 
and  prayed  him  to  come  out,  that  the  crowd  might  bear 
him  in  triumph  to  the  office  of  the  Union. 

"No  —  no;  go  home  and  get  ready  for  to-morrow's 
Avork  !  "  said  Joseph  ;  and  at  last  the  people  moved  slowly 
and  reluctantly  away. 


23:2  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

Joseph  stood,  white  and  calm,  watching  their  departure. 
Nor  would  he  stir  from  the  window,  or  allow  Freier  to  go 
down,  until  the  last  of  the  cloakmakers  was  disappearing 
round  a  corner. 

"  Now  let  me  see  you  keep  your  promise,  sir  !  "  he  said, 
turning  almost  fiercely  to  Freier. 


LIGHTNING   IN   CLEAR   SKY  233 


CHAPTER  XIX 

LIGHTNING   IN    CLEAR   SKY 

THEY  were  about  to  sign  the  agreement. 

Freier  had  summoned  all  the  manufacturers  interested 
with  him  in  the  matter,  and,  with  a  cynical  smile  on  his 
sensuous  lips,  had  conceded  the  points  insisted  upon  by 
Joseph  and  his  committee. 

"  And  now,"  said  Joseph,  "  let  these  men  and  women  get 
to  work,  for  they  are  starving.  How  would  you  like  to  sew 
for  a  week,  with  nothing  to  eat,  in  such  weather  as  this  ?  " 

Freier  did  not  answer.  He  shuffled  his  papers,  and 
seemed  anxious  to  complete  the  business. 

Joseph  wiped  the  dripping  moisture  from  his  brow,  and 
turned  away.  To  his  momentary  exaltation  had  now  suc 
ceeded  a  profound  depression.  His  triumph  did  not  seem 
worth  much,  after  all.  But  he  felt  that  he  had  prevented 
a  riot  and  an  assault  on  Freier,  and  surely  that  was  worth 
something. 

Just  then  one  of  his  men  spoke,  sharply  and  decidedly, 
and  continuing  the  train  of  thought  which  Joseph  had 
started  — 

"  Yes,  that's  the  hardest  of  all.  Going  back  to  work  and 
having  nothing  to  eat.  That  isn't  right.  Reb  Joseph,  you 
must  make  him  do  as  the  Germans  do  when  the  manu 
facturers  have  to  give  in.  He  must  pay  a  contribution  to 
the  Union,  to  compensate  us  for  the  time  we  have  lost." 


234  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

Freier  turned  quickly  on  this  man,  with  his  hand  raised 
as  if  he  would  strike  him.  His  teeth  snapped  like  those  of 
a  wolf.  The  cloakmaker  retreated  a  little,  but  looked  very 
surly. 

"Cbme,  Keb  Joseph,"  he  said,  "make  him  pay  five 
hundred  dollars  to  the  Union.  It  is  the  custom,  and  he 
owes  it." 

"But  the  agreement  is  all  ready  to  be  signed,"  objected 
Joseph,  fearing  a  new  delay. 

"  Never  mind  !     Make  him  do  it !  " 

The  manufacturers  said  that  they  would  leave  the  matter 
in  Freier's  hands,  and  departed.  Freier  accompanied  them 
to  the  outer  door.  When  he  came  back  he  said  loudly,  — 

"  Well,  men,  be  off !  I  have  my  work  to  attend  to,  and 
you  ought  to  be  about  yours." 

"  These  men,"  said  Joseph,  "  insist  upon  having  five 
hundred  dollars  paid  by  you  as  damages." 

"  It  will  teach  you  not  to  lock  us  out  again,  perhaps," 
added  the  cloakmaker. 

"  I  will  give  you  no  money,"  said  Freier.  "  You  have  had 
concessions  enough.  I  want  you  to  get  out  of  my  place." 

"Not  until  you  promise  to  give  the  money,"  said  the 
cloakmaker,  folding  his  arms. 

"  Never  !  "  shouted  Freier ;  but  an  instant  later  a  new  idea 
seemed  to  strike  him.  He  turned  away,  apparently  to  pore 
over  some  accounts,  then  whirled  back. 

"  Look  here  !"  he  cried,  sitting  down  on  the  edge  of  his 
desk.  "  I  will  give  you  a  check  for  one  hundred  dollars 
just  to  save  time.  If  I  do  that,  will  you  promise  to  leave 
me  in  peace  ?  " 

"  No,  five  hundred,"  insisted  the  cloakmaker. 

"  Five  hundred  devils !  If  you  want  the  one  hundred 
you  can  have  it ;  you  will  get  nothing  else." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Joseph,  thinking  of  the  starving  ones, 


LIGHTNING   IN   CLEAR   SKY  235 

and  anxious  to  help  them.  He  motioned  to  the  cloakmaker 
to  be  quiet.  "  Give  the  check  and  we  will  go." 

A  smile  crept  along  the  features  of  Freier,  and  seemed  to 
give  them  a  peculiar  glow. 

"Shall  I  make  the  check  payable  to  your  order,  Herr 
Zalmonah  ?  "  he  said,  turning  to  Joseph.  <;  Mind  you,  I 
yield  to  force,  and  am  doing  this  because  you  compel  me  — 
to  your  order." 

Joseph  scarcely  heard  him.  He  was  thinking  of  some 
thing  else — of  that  moment  when  Bathsheba  had  clung  to 
him  at  the  window,  with  the  fire  raging  below  them.  The 
memory  of  her  caress  seemed  to  sting  him  with  a  wild, 
sweet  pain.  A  minute  later  the  remembrance  had  faded 
away. 

Freier  was  handing  him  the  check.  He  took  it,  and  the 
others  crowded  around  to  see  it,  and  that  it  was  made  to  his 
order. 

Then  the  agreement  was  signed,  and  Freier  opened  the 
door,  and  bowed  them  out  with  an  ironical  politeness  which 
so  angered  Ben  Zion  that  he  could  scarcely  refrain  from 
leaving  the  manufacturer  a  memorial  of  his  visit  in  the 
shape  of  a  black  eye. 

"  Leave  me  alone  for  a  few  hours,"  said  Joseph  to  his 
men  as  they  returned  to  the  cloakmakers'  quarter.  "  I  have 
much  need  of  rest." 

But  they  would  not  listen  to  him,  and,  catching  him  up, 
bore  him  along  on  their  shoulders,  dancing  and  shouting  as 
best  they  could  in  their  famished  condition. 

Gradually  a  long  procession  formed  behind  them ;  and 
although  Joseph  watched  a  trifle  anxiously  for  the  Social 
ists,  none  of  them  appeared  in  it.  And  so  Joseph  arrived 
in  triumph  at  his  own  door,  and  was  received  with  open 
arms  by  Malcha,  almost  beside  herself  with  joy  at  the  news 
of  the  victory. 


230  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

She  thrust  a  cup  of  tea  into  his  hand,  and  made  him  sit 
down  in  the  bedroom,  where  he  found  David  and  old 
Manasseh  conversing  in  low  tones. 

At  sight  of  David,  poor  overworked  Joseph  let  his  cup 
fall,  and  clasped  his  hands  to  his  forehead.  (i  And  Miry  am  ! 
coward  that  I  am !  what  has  become  of  Miryam,  who  saved 
my  life  when  the  Socialists  were  throwing  stones  at  me? 
I  saw  her  lying  half  dead  on  the  ground  as  I  was  whirled 
away  in  the  crowd  this  morning.  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  Miryam  is  safe,"  said  David  quietly,  approaching  and 
giving  Joseph  his  hand.  "She  was  struck  down  by  the 
blow  meant  for  you,  and  she  was  badly  hurt ;  but  she  has 
regained  her  cheerfulness  now  that  she  is  laid  away  snugly 
in  bed  at  the  theatre." 

"  What  a  noble  child !  "  said  Joseph  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"  She  is  like  a  delicate  plant  among  weeds,  when  she  is 
with  us,"  said  David  modestly.  "  Miryam  is  a  little  sain;,. 
Her  nature  is  like  the.  myrtle.  You  know  the  proverb,  'A 
myrtle  in  the  desert  is  a  myrtle  still.' " 

David  was  in  excellent  humor.  His  eyes  sparkled ;  a 
little  color  came  and  went  in  his  face.  "To  think/'  lie 
said,  "that  old  Mordecai's  hymn  against  the  sweaters 
should  have  resulted  in  this !  You  prepared  the  way, 
Joseph,  and  Mordecai  gave  the  final  impulse.  Ah !  you  re 
member  Bathsheba's  warning,  do  you  not  ?  Well,  you  see 
that  it  was  necessary  enough.  And,  by  the  way,  if  we  call 
Miryam  a  myrtle,  what  should  we  call  Bathsheba?  Did 
you  hear  that  she  had  taken  a  room  in  Simon's  house  on 
the  very  day  when  his  house  was  burned,  and  that  she  lost 
all  her  precious  costumes  ?  It  will  be  some  time  before 
she  can  play  the  Shulamite,  I  fear." 

Joseph  turned  mortally  pale,  and  looked  earnestly  at 
David.  But  evidently  the  latter  knew  nothing  of  the  manner 
in  which  Bathsheba  had  escaped  from  the  burning  house. 


LIGHTNING   IN   CLEAR   SKY  237 

"  I  must  go  to  little  Miryam,"  he  said,  turning  to  Malcha. 
"Will  you  not  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  We  are  all  going  presently,"  replied  Malcha.  "  But  if 
you  don't  eat  your  breakfast  and  hold  your  tongue,  you 
will  be  put  to  bed  with  your  feet  tied  to  the  bed-posts." 

This  playful  threat  recalled  Joseph  to  reason,  for  an 
hour  or  two.  But  at  the  end  of  that  time  business  once 
more  invaded  his  mind.  His  committee  was  summoned 
from  the  front  steps,  where  it  had  been  sitting  patiently, 
to  go  with  Joseph  to  the  bank,  and  get  the  Freier  check 
cashed,  and  then  to  see  the  money  duly  deposited  in  the 
safe  of  the  Union. 

After  this  was  done  in  the  presence  of  many  witnesses, 
appeals  for  succor  began  to  flow  in  freely  ;  and  they  did 
not  stop  until  Joseph  had  paid  out  all  but  the  last  twenty- 
dollar  bill  in  small  sums  for  the  purchase  of  bread. 

"  Take  some  of  the  money  yourself,  Joseph,"  said  one  of 
the  committee-men.  "  You  need  it  at  home.  You  are  as 
poor  as  we  are." 

"  I  am  poorer,"  said  Joseph  with  a  weary  smile. 
"  Poorer,  because  I  have  no  time  to  work  and  earn  my 
living.  But  I  will  not  touch  a  cent  of  the  money." 

The  men  shook  their  heads  and  looked  at  each  other 
gravely  after  Joseph  had  gone.  "He  will  not  last  long," 
said  one ;  "  he  is  too  willing.  Bending  the  bow  too  much 
makes  it  crack." 

"  But  it  sends  the  arrow  to  the  right  spot,"  said  Ben 
Zion,  who  was  angrily  listening.  "  So  what  are  you  grum 
bling  about  ?  as  the  cat  said  to  the  fish  when  she  was  eat 
ing  it." 

"  I  suppose  if  some  of  the  money  was  offered  to  you,  it 
wouldn't  be  necessary  to  ask  you  twice."  said  a  committee- 
man,  who  considered  Ben  Zion  an  interloper. 

"  To  me  ?  What  do  I  want  with  your  money  ?  "  cried  Ben 
Zion  disdainfully.  "  I  am  a  merchant." 


238  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

The  half-starved  throng  laughed  in  derision. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Ben  Zion,  "  the  next  time  that  one  of 
you  wants  something  out  of  my  push-cart,  I  will  show  you 
whether  I  am  a  merchant  or  not." 

Joseph  returned  home  slowly  and  painfully.  There  was 
an  ominous  buzzing  in  his  head,  and  his  limbs  were  heavy. 
As  he  turned  into  East  Broadway  he  was  compelled  to  stop 
and  rest. 

Once  he  looked  up  hurriedly,  for  he  thought  the  clouds 
were  gathering  in  the  fiery  sky.  But  presently  lie  saw  that 
mists  were  rising  in  his  eyes.  He  tried  to  raise  one  hand, 
and  a  sharp  pain  shot  through  his  arm. 

Alarmed,  he  hobbled  the  rest  of  the  way  as  fast  as  lie 
could,  and  gasped  for  water  when  the  frightened  Malcha 
received  him  in  her  arms.  Then  he  began  to  babble  in  a 
disjointed  and  incoherent  way  about  fire  and  danger. 

"  I  believe  he  has  got  a  touch  of  the  sun,"  thought  Mal 
cha.  But  after  a  little  he  revived,  and,  looking  around  him 
like  one  just  come  out  of  a  dream,  he  saw  an  old  woman 
sitting  on  a  stool  in  a  dark  corner. 

"  What  does  she  want  ?  "  he  asked  Malcha. 

"  I  don't  know.  She  will  talk  to  nobody  but  you,  she 
says." 

The  woman  came  forward  with  a  grin.  "I  have  brought 
you  something  from  the  landlord,  Herr  Zalmonah,"  she 
mumbled  in  English.  "  Something  that  won't  wait ! " 

A  shiver  ran  through  Joseph's  frame  as  he  took  the 
folded  paper  which  the  crone  handed  to  him.  It  suddenly 
flashed  through  his  mind  that,  in  the  rush  and  hurry  of  his 
work  for  the  cloakmakers,  he  had  totally  forgotten  to  make 
provision  for  his  rent. 

At  first  the  landlord  had  been  lenient,  observing  that 
Joseph  was  powerful  among  his  own  people,  and  not  wish 
ing  to  offend  him.  But  by  and  by  he  became  surly. 


LIGHTNING   IN   CLEAU   SKY  239 

Joseph  now  remembered  that  a  few  mornings  before  the 
landlord  had  met  him,,  and  asked  him  for  the  month's  rent, 
overdue,  and  that  he  had  scarcely  answered  him. 

He  opened  the  paper,  and  smiled  bitterly  as  he  saw  the 
familiar  word  "  Dispossess,"  which  he  had  seen  so  many 
times  in  papers  served  upon  unfortunate  members  of  his 
Union.  A  sharp  pain  smote  him  at  the  heart.  Turned  into 
the  street !  That  was  all  very  well  when  he  was  alone ; 
but  now  Malcha  and  little  Zipporah  were  here,  and  it  was 
not  only  humiliating,  but  appalling. 

He  sent  Malcha  out  of  the  room  on  some  feeble  pretext, 
and  then  said  to  the  old  woman,  "  I  am  sick  to-day,  and 
don't  want  to  move  before  next  Monday.  I  suppose  we 
can  stay  until  then?  Perhaps  by  that  time  "  — 

"  No,"  said  the  old  woman  brutally;  "the  landlord  says 
he's  had  enough  of  labor-leaders,  and  he  won't  have  ye  no 
longer  at  no  price.  So  you  want  to  git  out  before  to-mor 
row  night !  We  need  tenants  that  can  tend  to  their  own 
business,  and  not  be  meddling  with  other  folks." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Joseph,  turning  his  back  on  this 
abuse;  "you  needn't  stay  any  longer." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  suppose  not,"  shrieked  the  woman,  suddenly 
becoming  aggressive.  "  Just  remember  that  you  will  be 
fired  if  you  are  found  here  to-morrow  night ! "  and  she 
stalked  away. 

Joseph  let  the  paper  fall  on  the  floor;  an  idle  tear  or  two 
dropped  on  it.  This,  then,  was  his  reward!  No  roof  over 
his  head,  and  no  money  in  his  pocket ! 

He  thought  of  the  meagre  twenty  dollars  in  the  Union's 
treasury.  "  No  ! "  he  said  resolutely  ;  "  that  will  be  needed 
to-morrow  to  buy  bread  for  starving  children." 

Malcha  did  not  return ;  and  Joseph  sat  looking  into  the 
black  future  until  fiery  specks  danced  before  his  eyes,  and 
his  head  felt  as  if  it  were  made  of  melting  lead.  Pres-, 


240  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAH 

ently  he  heard  a  light  footstep,  and  looking  up  he  saw 
David  standing  near  him.  His  heart  yearned  for  a  bit  of 
sympathy. 

"  Friend  David,"  he  said,  "  I  am  humbled  to  the  very  dust." 

"'He  who  offers  humility  to  God  and  man/"  answered 
David  in  his  oracular  fashion,  " '  shall  receive  as  great  a  re 
ward  as  though  he  had  offered  all  the  sacrifices  in  the  world.' " 

"  True,  true,  David ;  but  I  am  afraid  that  proverbs  will 
not  help  my  case." 

"  Then  we  will  find  something  more  substantial !  "  cried 
David.  "  I  know  the  cause  of  your  sadness,  Joseph.  Do 
you  fancy  that  I  will  let  that  old  skinflint,  that  landlord 
without  mercy,  drive  you  out-of-doors  just  when  you  have 
saved  so  many  of  our  people  from  starvation  ?  He  is 
boasting  that  he  will  land  you  on  the  pavement;  but  he 
won't,"  and  he  dropped  on  Joseph's  knee  four  crisp  five- 
dollar  bills.  "  Send  that  to  the  old  fiend,"  he  said,  "and  so 
you  will  be  safe  for  a  while." 

"No,  no,  David!  I  deserve  to  suffer:  I  have  been  too 
negligent.  I  must  begin  to  care  more  for  my  wife,  and  less 
for  the  woes  of  other  people." 

"  You  must  take  the  money.  And  now  come  with  me  to 
see  poor  little  Miry  am.  She  has  been  calling  for  you  at 
intervals  ever  since  she  was  hurt.  Your  presence  will  help 
to  make  her  better." 

Joseph  was  finally  prevailed  upon  to  accept  enough  of 
the  money  to  satisfy  the  landlord's  claim,  and  he  had 
brightened  up  and  looked  refreshed  when  Malcha  returned. 
She  was  loth  to  let  him  go  out  into  the  sun  once  more,  but 
he  insisted ;  and  keeping  in  the  shadow  of  the  houses,  and 
stopping  now  and  then  to  rest  in  a  cool  cellar,  they  finally 
came  to  the  theatre. 

A  simple  couch  had  been  arranged  in  the  little  loft  where 
Joseph  had  seen  the  company  at  lunch ;  and  upon  it,  cov- 


LIGHTNING   IN    CLEAR   SKY  241 

ered  with  fantastic  Oriental  draperies,  and  with  her  dainty 
head  propped  up  by  the  cushion  on  which  Judith  had  exe 
cuted  "  Holofernus,"  Miryain  was  lying,  her  eyes  wide  open, 
and  staring  at  the  bare  beams  of  the  roof,  and  her  thiu 
girlish  hands  crossed  on  her  breast.  She  was  so  strangely 
still  that  Joseph's  heart  beat  tumultuously  at  the  thought 
that  she  might  be  dead. 

He  was  about  to  whisper  to  David,  when  the  child-woman 
turned  her  face,  which  was  suddenly  transfigured  with  a 
heavenly  smile,  toward  Joseph,  and,  as  if  moved  by  an  ir 
resistible  impulse  which  she  herself  did  not  understand, 
stretched  out  her  arms  to  him. 

He  hastened  forward  and  knelt  beside  her. 

"  0  Herr  Joseph  !  "  she  said,  "it  was  very  sweet  of  you 
to  come  —  in  your  hour  of  victory  !  I  have  heard  —  I  know 
—  I  told  everybody  that  you  would  win  ! " 

A  divine  tenderness  stole  into  her  eyes  ;  and  a  strange 
look,  which  made  her  seem  older,  and  gave  to  her  gaze  a 
womanly  warmth  and  grace,  thrilled  Joseph  deeply. 

He  took  her  hands  almost  timidly,  looking  round  at  David, 
who  encouraged  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Dear  Miryam  !  "  he  said,  "  did  those  brutal  villains  harm 

you  this  morning  ?   If  they  did  I  shall  have  them  punished  !  " 

_"  They  meant  to  take  your  life,  Joseph  ! "  sighed  the  girl, 

clinging  to  Joseph's    hand  with  a   yearning   caress  which 

touched  him  beyond  the  power  of  expression. 

'•'I  know  —  I  know,  Miryain  !  But  I  was  mad  —  I  was 
foolish  to  let  you  remain  there  an  instant !  And  to  feel 
that  the  stone  aimed  at  me  should  have  struck  you  down  !  " 

"  It  does  not  hurt  now,  Reb  Joseph,"  said  the  girl  bravely. 
"It  burned  a  good  deal  at  first,  but  it  is  calmer  now,  and 
it  will  soon  be  nothing.  Ah,  R-eb  Joseph  !  my  spirit  would 
have  been  happ}r  if  I  had  been  stretched  dead  at  your  feet, 
and  you  had  walked  over  me  to  victory  !  " 


242  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

She  touched  Joseph's  hand  reverently  with  her  thin 
lips  ;  then  sank  back  as  if  exhausted  with  emotion  and 
pain. 

"  Dear  little  Miryam  !"  whispered  Joseph;  "she  is  like 
an  angel  of  light.  She  is  out  of  place  in  this  rude  life  of 
starvation  and  struggle.  Heaven  forgive  me  for  bringing 
a  single  pang  to  the  poor  child  ! " 

"'The  rose  grows  among  thorns!'"  said  David  senten- 
tiously,  stooping  over  Miryam  to  listen  to  her  breathing, 
which  was  labored  and  hoarse.  "  She  must  sleep  now.  The 
doctor  is  coming  soon.  She  could  not  rest  without  seeing 
you.  Now  it  is  our  duty  to  make  her  well  and  strong." 

"How  I  wish  I  could  do  something  to  help  her !  "  sighed 
poor  Joseph,  who  had  been  growing  more  and  more  im 
patient  of  his  poverty  ever  since  the  victory  over  Freier. 
"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  "  he  cried,  clasping  his  hands.  "  I  have 
nothing,  I  am  nothing !  Tell  me,  is  Miryam  seriously 
bruised  ?  " 

"  She  has  youth  and  courage  on  her  side,"  said  David 
evasively.  But  his  face  darkened,  and  his  eyes  looked 
troubled  as  he  spoke.  Then  he  drew  Joseph  softly  aside, 
and  they  sat  down  together  on  a  pile  of  costumes  in  which 
a  Hebrew  army  was  that  evening  to  vanquish  an  oppressor 
in  one  of  David's  biblical  dramas. 

"  Now  that  your  battle  is  over,  Joseph,"  said  David,  "  I 
wish  to  give  you  a  bit  of  advice.  You  are  not  strong 
enough  to  carry  on  this  struggle,  as  it  may  be  necessary  to 
do  again  and  again.  You  have  done  your  part ;  your  duty 
now  is  to  your  wife  and  child." 

"I  know,  I  know,"  said  Joseph  humbly;  "I  am  going 
back  to  the  machine  at  once." 

"  You  can  do  better  than  that.  Up  in  the  Connecticut 
hills  I  hear  that  there  is  a  colony,  made  up  of  our  people, 
who  have  been  helped  by  generous  people  abroad,  and  who 


LIGHTNING   IN   CLEAR   SKY  243 

are  doing  well.  You  might  go  there,  and  found  yourself  a 
home,  and  live  with  them.  They  would  be  glad  of  your 
counsel  arid  assistance.  Our  people  are  foolish  to  settle 
in  these  city  slums.  But  it  is  useless  to  reason  with  these 
mobs.  With  you,  Joseph,  I  can  reason,  and  I  entreat  you 
to  found  a  home,  an  independence,  a  refuge." 

"  If  it  could  only  be  !  "  sighed  the  weary  Joseph.  "  But 
who  would  take  care  of  my  poor  folk  here  ?  " 

"  Others  will  spring  up  to  continue  your  good  work. 
Promise  me  that  you  will  think  of  the  colony,  Joseph." 

"  I  will."  Joseph  grasped  David's  arm,  breathing  hard, 
and  looking  as  perturbed  as  if  he  had  seen  a  spectre.  He 
drew  David  back  with  him  behind  a  high  pile  of  "proper 
ties,"  and  stood  trembling  and  apparently  angry. 

Bathsheba  had  stolen  in,  and,  moving  lightly  to  the  couch, 
had  knelt  beside  Miryam,  and  taken  the  girl's  thin  hands 
in  hers.  Joseph  could  hear  her  speaking  caressingly  to 
Miryam,  and  the  girl  was  answering  in  a  whisper.  He 
looked  at  Bathsheba  curiously.  She  was  as  coldly,  statu- 
esquely  beautiful  as  ever:  there  was  nothing  to  indicate 
that  her  nature  was  capable  of  the  mighty  passion  mani 
fested  when  she  had  thrown  herself  upon  his  breast,  or  when 
they  stood  lashed  together,  ready  to  descend  from  the 
window  of  the  burning  building. 

"  Come  away  ! "  whispered  Joseph  ;  and  by  crawling  over 
a  beam  or  two  they  managed  to  regain  the  exit  without 
being  seen  by  Bathsheba. 

David  placed  both  hands  on  Joseph's  shoulders  and 
looked  him  squarely  in  the  face  as  he  bade  him  good-by. 
"  Think  about  the  colony,  friend  Joseph,"  he  said.  "  Up 
there  you  would  not  be  troubled  by  any  more  glimpses  of 
Bathsheba" — Joseph  flushed,  but  did  not  appear  to  be 
angry  —  "  and  perhaps  that  would  be  as  well.  '  Trust  not 
thyself  until  the  day  of  thy  death,' "  added  David,  conclud- 


244  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

ing  with  a  proverb,  as  usual,  and  turning  away  with  a  mist 
iness  in  his  eyes. 

Joseph  went  home  perplexed  in  spirit. 

There  was  a  great  meeting  at  the  Union  that  night,  at 
which  the  young  labor-leader  was  fairly  worshipped  by  the 
mothers  and  wives  who  recognized  in  him  the  deliverer, 
leading  their  sons  and  husbands  up  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt, 
and  it  was  long  past  midnight  before  his  weary  head  rested 
on  his  humble  pillow. 

Toward  six  o'clock  he  awoke,  with  a  delicious  sense  of 
relief  from  the  furnace  heat  which  for  the  few  days  past 
had  made  life  almost  intolerable. 

A  cool  wind,  laden  with  the  aroma  of  the  sea,  was  blow 
ing  through  the  open  casements.  Large  raindrops  were 
plashing  upon  the  window-sills ;  and  presently  there  came 
a  deep,  magnificent  thunder  roll,  which  seemed  to  shake  the 
city  to  its  foundations. 

Malcha  and  the  child  were  sleeping  peacefully.  Joseph 
arose  and  dressed  himself  slowly,  meditating  on  his  many 
escapes  from  trouble.  His  landlord  was  pacified :  his  vic 
tory  over  Freier  was  decisive.  Now  he  would  go  to  work  ! 

He  went  out  to  the  front  steps,  and  sat  down,  enjoying 
the  brisk  air  and  the  cool  rain  breaths.  Life  began  to  seem 
large  and  fine  to  him  once  more.  Vague  ambitions  slowly 
took  shape  in  his  mind.  David's  advice  drifted  through  his 
memory.  He  had  a  momentary  vision  of  a  charming  coun 
try  home,  where  he  and  his  were  snugly  ensconced,  free 
from  cares  and  jealousies  and  impressions. 

"Does  Mr.  Joseph  Zalmonah  live  here?"  said  a  sharp, 
but  not  unkindly,  voice  close  beside  him. 

He  started,  and  found  a  keen-faced,  gray -eyed  man, 
dressed  in  a  blue  flannel  suit,  a  derby  hat,  and  a  pair  of 
untanned  leather  shoes,  stepping  briskly  around  so  as  to 
face  him. 


LIGHTNING   IN   CLEAR   SKY  245 

"  I  am  the  man,"  answered  Joseph  politely.  "What  can 
I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Joseph  Zaluionah,  the  labor-leader  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Zaluionah,  I'm  sorry  to  trouble  ye,  but  I  have 
a  warrant  for  your  arrest,  and  if  you  will  come  along  with 
me,  I'll  explain  it  a  little  to  ye,  as  we  go  along. " 

Joseph  laughed.  Probably  some  trick  of  Baumeister's, 
some  trivial  accusation  of  assault,  or  —  was  it  a  blow  struck 
out  of  the  dark  by  some  more  powerful  enemy  ? 

"Come,"  said  the  man,  "sorry  to  bother  ye,  but  busi 
ness  is  business.  And  you  might  as  well  know  the  charge, 
because  ye  don't  seem  to  think  it's  serious.  The  charge  is 
Arson." 

The  word  fell  heavily  on  Joseph's  brain.  "  Arson  ?  "  he 
repeated  wonderingly. 

"Yes — burning  a  house  when  they's  folks  in  it  —  see? 
Come,  now,  Mr.  Zalmonah,  we  don't  want  no  crowd;  git 
your  hat,  and  we  will  trudge  along  before  the  storm  ketches 
us." 


246  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   LIVING   TOMB 

WHEN  Joseph  went  in  to  get  his  hat,  he  approached  the 
bed,  and  saw  Maicha  and  the  child  slumbering  so  peacefully 
that  lie  at  once  decided  not  to  wake  them. 

Little  Zipporah  had  clambered  high  up,  and  laid  her 
pretty  head  confidingly  on  her  mother's  arm,  and  she 
nestled  there  in  the  most  charming  of  postures. 

The  mother's  deep  regular  breathing  showed  that  she 
could  be  awakened  only  with  difficulty  just  then.  Her  face 
wore  a  pleased  smile,  as  if  she  were  dreaming  of  something 
very  agreeable. 

"  She  looks,"  thought  Joseph,  "  as  she  did  when  she  was 
a  young  bride,  with  no  care  on  her  brow." 

He  bent  down  and  kissed  her,  and  as  his  lips  touched  her 
face,  flushed  with  sleep,  a  pang,  as  of  a  sudden  stab,  shot 
through  his  breast,  and  he  thought  that  he  would  have 
fallen. 

But  he  recovered  in  an  instant,  and,  seizing  his  hat,  he 
quickly  rejoined  his  watchful  captor  at  the  door. 

He  did  not  dare  to  look  backward.  For  lie  knew  that  if 
he  did  he  should  fly  to  Malcha's  arms,  and  awaken  her  to 
all  the  wretchedness  of  a  despairing  good-by. 

"  Come  on."  he  said  ;  "  I  am  ready  for  you  now." 

"  You  seem  to  speak  English  pretty  well,"  said  the  man. 
"  Ben  in  this  country  long  ?  " 


THE   LIVING    TOMB  24'J 

"  Long  enough  to  know  that  there  is  as  much  injustice 
in  it  as  in  most  countries,"  answered  Joseph  bitterly. 
"  What  fool  has  trumped  up  a  charge  against  me  ?  I  will 
make  him  sweat  for  it  before  the  day  is  over." 

The  man  shot  a  keen  glance  at  him.  "  A  day  ain't  much," 
he  said,  not  unkindly,  "  when  a  feller's  in.  your  fix.  If  I 
was  you,  now,  I  wouldn't  be  too  impatient.  And  when  we 
get  over  there,"  he  made  a  gesture  to  the  westward,  which 
might  have  meant  anything  this  side  of  California,  "  I 
recommend  you  to  send  home  and  let  your  folks  know 
where  ye  be.  It'll  save  trouble." 

"  What  do  you  call  '  over  there '  ?  "  said  Joseph,  looking 
at  the  man  fixedly. 

"  Wai,  we're  bound  for  Essex  Market  now,"  he  answered, 
"  and  then  I  suppose  that  if  you  don't  get  bail  it'll  be  the 
'  Tombs.'  And  it's  pretty  hard  getting  bail  on  arson  now," 
he  added  reflectively. 

"  Oh,  the  '  Tombs,' "  reflected  Joseph  aloud.  He  had  al 
most  forgotten  that  he  was  to  be  put  in  prison.  But  now 
the  fact  loomed  up  before  him,  large,  grim,  and  terrible. 

With  the  instinct  of  any  live  thing  which  finds  itself  in 
a  trap,  he  looked  desperately  and  quickly  to  right  and  left, 
and  then  shot  a  swift  glance  at  his  companion. 

"  Now,  Zalmonah,"  said  the  officer,  moving  up  to  him  with 
astonishing  quickness,  "you  look  like  a  man  of  sense. 
Just  prove  it.  I  know  that  this  part  of  the  town  is  full  of 
your  folks.  But  it  wouldn't  do  you  the  least  good  to  break 
away.  I'd  git  ye  again,  if  I  had  ter  have  the  militia  called 
out.  You  bet  I  would." 

He  took  from  his  hip  pocket  a  package  of  "  fine  cut "  and 
selected  a  capacious  chew.  "  I'm  right,  hey  ?  "  he  queried. 

"  Yes,"  responded  Joseph  ;  "  you  are  right." 

At  that  moment  he  heard  the  click-click-click  clack-clack 
of  a  sewing-machine,  and  it  sounded  like  music  in  his  ear. 


248  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

They  had  turned  into  a  quarter  where  cloakmakers 
abounded,  and  the  clack  of  the  machine  indicated  that  the 
poor  people  had  gone  to  work  again.  They  would  have 
bread  now,  he  thought,  as  the  great  tears  stood  in  his  eyes. 
What  mattered  it  what  became  of  him  ? 

Each  moment  he  expected  to  see  one  of  his  followers 
recognize  him,  and  ask  him  where  he  was  going ;  but  he 
encountered  no  one  who  knew  him. 

The  fact  was  that  every  cloakinaker  was  at  home  or  in 
the  shops,  working  for  dear  life  to  make  up  for  lost  time, 
and  no  one  thought  of  glancing  into  the  street. 

In.  a  few  minutes  they  were  at  the  Essex  Market  prison, 
where  Joseph  had  often  been  to  intercede  for  an  indiscreet 
workman  or  woman  who  had  been  illustrating  her  argument 
with  scratches  upon  her  neighbor's  face. 

Here  he  was  interrogated  and  locked  up ;  and  after  he 
had  written  a  little  scrawl  to  his  wife,  begging  her  not  to 
be  alarmed,  and  to  come  and  see  him  at  mid-day,  he  sat 
down  on  the  bench  in  his  cell,  and  in  a  few  minutes  fell 
fast  asleep. 

The  relapse  after  the  long  strain  had  come.  Joseph  was 
as  weak  as  a  child.  . 

Two  days  after  his  arrest  Joseph  stood,  a  little  tremulous 
and  disturbed,  but  still  full  of  courage,  at  the  entrance  to 
the  "  Tombs." 

He  had  seen  Malcha ;  he  had  seen  Ben  Zion ;  he  had 
seen  kind  friends  who  were  indignant  at  his  arrest.  But 
the  magistrate  had  placed  his  bail  so  high  that  no  one  in 
his  humble  circle  —  no,  nor  any  ten  of  them  combined 
—  could  raise  it;  and  so  he  was  going  to  the  •' Tombs"  to 
await  his  trial. 

Joseph  vaguely  noted  the  long,  low  wall,  like  that  of  an 
Egyptian  burial-place  ;  the  diminutive  entrance,  with  the 


THE  LIVING  TOMB  249 

words  "City  Prison"  in  modest  type,  and  a  grating,  just 
inside  of  which  a  fat  policeman  sat,  with  a  cheerful  smile 
upon  his  face,  and  an  apparent  willingness  to  let  everybody 
and  anybody  in  the  world  go  in,  although  he  might  have 
totally  different  notions  about  allowing  them  to  go  out 
again. 

A  shadow  seemed  to  rest  upon  everything.  His  captor 
pushed  him  forward  a  little  as  the  grating  swung  back,  as 
if  he  feared  the  sudden  revolt  of  the  flesh  in  favor  of 
liberty. 

Joseph  stepped  briskly  in.  The  policeman  swung  the 
grating  to  position,  popped  the  key  into  his  pocket,  and 
proceeded  to  stare  with  great  earnestness  at  nothing  at  all. 

Now  that  he  was  caged,  Joseph  took  accurate  note  of 
everything.  He  observed  the  low,  old-fashioned  vault 
ing  of  the  ceiling  of  the  reception-room;  the  high  desk  out 
of  which  a  clerk  stared  in  a  coldly  unsympathetic  way,  as 
if  bored  by  the  new  arrival ;  the  wooden  railings,  behind 
which  the  prisoners  were  compelled  to  file,  and  the  smooth 
polish  which  had  been  put  upon  them  by  the  innumerable 
hands' of  thieves,  murderers,  drunken  ruffians,  and  outcasts 
on  their  way  to  even  less  comfortable  abodes. 

He  was  ushered  into  a  deep  recess  beneath  the  vaults, 
and  seated  at  a  table  beside  his  companion.  But  no  one 
else  came  near  him ;  the  shadows  fell  more  deeply  around 
him.  He  fancied  that  it  was  something  like  being  dead. 
The  silence  and  gloom  of  the  living  tomb  had  already  taken 
hold  upon  his  spirit. 

He  let  his  hands  fall  listlessly  in  his  lap,  and  sat  con 
templating  them  with  reproachful  gaze,  as  who  would  say, 
"  Xow,  what  have  you  done  wrong  to  bring  me  to  such  a 
place  as  this  ?  " 

By  and  by  he  heard  a  footstep,  and  an  elderly  man  in  a 
neatly  fitting  frock-coat  of  expensive  material  —  Joseph 


250  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

remembered  long  afterward  how  he  eyed  that  coat,  and 
tried  to  discover  whether  or  not  it  had  been  made  by  a 
sweater's  bondman  —  entered  and  looked  at  him  with  a  cold 
glance,  but  without  greeting  him  at  all. 

"  This  is  Zalmonah,  Warden, "'  said  Joseph's  captor.  "  You 
know.  Case  of  arson  in  the  first  degree.  No  bail." 

The  warden  looked  at  the  man  with  a  frigid  stare. 

Now  came  much  writing  down  of  Joseph's  responses  to 
questions  asked  by  the  clerk,  who  came  out  of  a  dark  recess, 
and  careful  searching  of  pcckets ;  and  then  warden  and 
clerk  seemed  to  fade  away,  and  Joseph's  captor  arose  and 
essayed  a  grin,  at  the  same  time  holding  out  a  huge  knotted 
hand,  and  saying,  — 

"  Well,  so  long,  Zalmonah.  I  guess  you'll  be  all  right 
here.  And  if,  as  your  friends  say,  you  hadn't  nothing  to 
do  with  that  case  of  arson,  why,  you  won't  be  staying  here 
a  great  while." 

Joseph  reached  out  one  hand  —  he  seemed  gifted  with 
extraordinary  strength  for  a  moment  —  and  gripped  the  offi 
cer  by  the  collar  of  his  coat.  Then  he  drew  the  man  close 
to  him,  and  looked  sharply  into  his  eyes. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  said,  "  that  you  have  ever 
for  an  instant  supposed  me  guilty  of  arson  ?  " 

"  Well  —  perhaps,"  stammered  the  man,  who  was  the 
least  bit  daunted  ;  "  but  now  that  I  have  seen  you  "  — 

"Then  if  you  could  believe  that,"  said  Joseph,  spurning 
the  fellow  away,  "  you  are  a  greater  fool  than  I  take  you 
for.  Now,  what  do  they  want  to  do  with  me  ?  " 

"  This  way,"  said  a  cracked  voice,  and  Joseph  saw  at  his 
elbow  a  small  gray-headed  man  in  a  faded  dark  blue  uni 
form,  with  a  slouch  cap  on  his  head,  and  a  bunch  of  keys  in 
his  hand.  This  elderly  person  led  the  way  as  if  he  were  a 
hotel  porter  showing  a  guest  the  best  rooms  in  the  house, 
until  they  reached  the  railings,  when  he  got  Joseph  in  front 
of  him,  and  said  curtly,  '•  Turn  to  the  right." 


THE   LIVING   TOMB  251 

A  lock  clicked,  a  grating  swung  open  ;  an  attendant  seated 
in  the  obscurity  peered  out  sharply  at  Joseph,  as  if  deter 
mined  to  be  sure  of  recognizing  him  again ;  and  then  Joseph 
and  his  guide  rambled  along  under  the  archway.  From 
point  to  point  lanterns  cast  dubious  rays,  which  seemed 
timid  about  affronting  the  general  blackness. 

"  Pretty  good  weather  to-day,  ain't  it  ?  "  said  the  guide, 
jingling  his  keys. 

"  Fairly  good,"  answered  Joseph.  "  But  you  would  never 
know  it  here.  This  is  like  a  tomb." 

The  man  looked  fixedly  at  him  for  a  moment.  "  Wai, 
that's  right,  ain't  it  ?  "  he  said  querulously.  "  They  call  it 
the  '  Tombs,'  don't  they  ?  What  d'ye  expect  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  answered  Joseph  with  a  sigh. 

And  indeed  he  had  arrived  at  that  point  where  he  really 
expected  nothing  more.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  end  of 
his  self-imposed  martyrdom  had  come,  in  a  universal  black 
ness  in  which  he  should  soon  find  oblivion.  A  host  of  con 
fused  and  fleeting  images  —  his  wife,  his  child,  Miryam, 
David,  Ben  Zion  ;  Mordecai,  with  his  songs  ;  Bathsheba,  with 
her  sinuous  grace  and  dangerous  wiles ;  Baumeister  in  his 
epileptic  fits  —  came  .around  him,  were  luminous  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  were  consumed  by  the  shadows. 

And  now  they  were  at  another  door,  which  was  opened 
with  a  grating  key,  and  which,  swinging  inwards,  disclosed 
a  consumptive-looking  keeper  sitting  in  a  low  chair,  from 
which  he  arose  to  open  one  more  creaking  and  heavy  portal. 
This  led  into  a  narrow  corridor,  along  which  Joseph  was 
hurried,  without  perceiving  that  the  first  turnkey  had  left 
him,  and  that  he  was  between  two  others. 

They  passed  through  a  gate,  on  one  side  of  which,  on  a 
little  perch,  sat  a  harsh-featured  man,  and  Joseph  was  ush 
ered  into  a  small  cell  on  the  lower  tier  of  the  section  re 
served  for  prisoners  awaiting  trial,  and  found  himself 


252  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

welcomed  with  a  sort  of  fierce  joy  by  a  commonplace  de 
faulter  with  an  East  Side  drawl,  who  said  he  was  lonesome, 
and  mighty  glad  to  see  company ;  and  he  furthermore  added 
that  if  Joseph  had  any  tobacco,  he  would  be  "much  obliged 
for  some." 

Joseph  at  first  turned  his  back  on  this  importunate  fellow- 
prisoner,  because  he  felt  an  imperious  need  of  retiring  into 
his  own  spirit,  and  compelling  the  world,  with  its  prison- 
walls,  to  vanish  from  his  thoughts.  He  sat  down  on  his 
little  bed,  and  held  his  head  in  his  hands  so  long  that  his 
companion  said,  "  Huh !  cracked,  I  guess  ! "  and  began 
writing  on  a  piece  of  foolscap,  with  a  soap-box  for  a  table. 

Joseph  did  not  look  up  from  his  revery  until  the  prepa 
rations  in  the  corridor  told  him  that  night  had  come.  He 
thought  of  Malcha  lonely  in  a  strange  land,  with  a  little 
child  to  care  for,  and  with  no  resource  save  manual  labor, 
and  then  the  hot  tears  gushed  from  his  eyes.  He  lay  down 
and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  that  night  the  iron 
entered  into  his  soul. 

But  next  morning  he  was  more  tranquil,  for  there  was  a 
bustle  around  him,  and  an  air  of  cheerfulness  pervaded  even 
the  living  tomb.  On  the  corridor  above,  reporters  were 
flocking  about  the  cell  of  a  financier  who  had  fallen  by  the 
way,  and  he  heard  them  laughing  and  talking  in  a  high  key 
with  the  wretched  man. 

Joseph  was  allowed  to  send  for  such  things  as  he  needed, 
and  was  informed  that  a  friend  had  opened  a  credit  for  him. 
HP  was  offered  a  newspaper,  and  permitted  to  smoke  cigar 
ettes,  and  to  write  and  send  letters.  But  no  matter  how 
absorbed  he  became  in  the  petty  occupations  permissible, 
he  could  not  shake  off  the  feeling  that  he  was  entombed 
alive,  and  that  for  him  the  sentient,  breathing  world,  with 
its  colors  of  sunrise  and  song  of  birds  and  kiss  of  wife  and 
children,  was  lost  forever. 


THE   LIVING   TOMB  253 

That  day  brought  him  a  visitor.  It  was  David,  serene 
and  quaint  as  usual,  seeming  to  bring  with  him  the  fresh 
air  of  freedom,  and  some  hope  for  the  future. 

"  And  Malcha  ?  "  gasped  Joseph,  clinging  to  the  grating, 
and  shaking  it  desperately  in  his  anxiety. 

"  Malcha  and  the  child  will  be  provided  for  until  your 
innocence  is  proved,"  said  David.  "  The  poor  wife  was 
going  to  work  in  a  cloakmaker's  (a  groan  escaped  Joseph's 
lips),  but  I  put  a  stop  to  that.  I  have  a  project,  Joseph, 
and  I  have  come  to  tell  you  about  it.  But  first  take  these 
little  things  which  Malcha  and  Miryam  have  sent  you,"  and 
he  handed  in  a  little  basket,  which  had  been  duly  examined 
by  the  Cerberus  at  the  entrance. 

"Food  and  flowers!"  said  Joseph,  glancing  at  the  gifts. 
"  They  can  wait.  The  scheme  —  the  scheme  !  " 

"  You  know,"  said  David,  hugging  the  bars  of  the  grating, 
"  that  when  the  righteous  dies  '  'tis  earth  which  meets  with 
loss.'  You  are  too  valuable  to  us  to  be  lost  in  this  battle 
that  you  are  fighting  against  such  fearful  odds,  Joseph;  and 
as  soon  as  you  are  free  I  mean  to  take  you  and  yours  into 
a  new  and  a  safer  field  of  action.  Joseph,  I  am  going  to 
found  a  colony  myself." 

"  Well,  there  now,"  said  Joseph,  "  if  I  heard  Ben  Zion 
say  a  thing  like  that,  I  could  listen  without  a  smile !  But 
when  I  hear  an  intelligent  and  practical  man  like  you  — 
Since  when  were  our  poor  people  qualified  for  the  rough 
work  of  colony  life  ?  They  were  not  successful  enough  with 
farming  at  home  to  try  it  abroad." 

"  Yet  we  are  going  to  try  it,  Joseph,  and  we  want  you  to 
lead  and  encourage  us.  Up  among  the  hills,  a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  from  here,  in  a  State  they  call  Connecticut  —  do 
you  remember  my  mentioning  a  colony  already  founded 
there  ?  —  we  have  found  a  half-deserted  section  where  we 
can  get  homes  cheaply,  and  where  we  can  establish  small 


254  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

industries.  And  now  our  first  duty,  Joseph,  is  to  get  you 
free,  so  that  you  may  help  us.  In  the  fresh  air  of  the  coun 
try,  and  with  land  of  your  own,  you  will  be  a  new  man. 
We  will  draw  the  refugees  away  from  the  sweaters  to  us  ! 
We  will  leave  them  without  slaves  to  tyrannize  over !  We 
will  outwit  them,  Joseph,  and  they  shall  lose  all  their  ill- 
gotten  gains." 

Transfigured  by  his  enthusiasm,  David  shook  the  bars  so, 
and  talked  so  loudly,  that  a  keeper  came  to  peer  curiously 
at  him. 

But  Joseph  shook  his  head  sorrowfully.  "I  am  afraid 
that  it  is  all  a  dream,  David.  And  how  am  I  to  be  got  out 
of  here,  even  if  your  dream  is  realized  ?  No,  no ;  I 
must  stay  here  in  the  darkness  —  my  enemies  have  laid 
'their  hands  on  me;  and  'Israel  is  smitten,  as  the  reed  is 
shaken  in  the  waters.' " 

He  tried  to  smile. 

"  Come,  now,"  said  David,  " '  into  the  well  which  supplies 
thee  with  water  cast  no  stones.'  Why  refuse  the  pleasing 
prospect  of  the  colony  ?  I  shall  keep  an  interest  in  my 
theatre,  which  pays  me  well ;  and  we  will  have  a  home  for 
Miry  am  and  Malcha  and  the  child,  and  for  Manasseh  and 
Shiphrah  "— 

He  paused,  and  a  wave  of  color  came  into  his  face.  "  I 
would  like  to  have  Shiphrah  included  in  the  scheme,  if  you 
do  not  object,  Joseph,"  he  said  almost  humbly. 

Joseph  did  not  answer  at  once.  He  was  beginning  to 
understand  that  David's  interest  in  the  unfortunate  Shiph 
rah  was  more  than  a  benevolent  one  ;  that  the  young  play 
wright  and  manager  had  learned  to  love  the  erring  one. 
Presently  he  put  out  his  hand,  and  David  took  it. 

"Did  I  not  deliver  Shiphrah  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
sweaters  ?  "  Joseph  said  ;  "  and  was  it  in  order  to  hinder  her 
from  receiving  any  gift  of  God  which  might  come  to  her?" 


THE   LIVING   TOMB  255 

The  two  friends  understood,  without  further  words. 
When  they  parted  Joseph  felt  a  fresh  breeze  of  hope  on 
his  brow,  although  David  had  not  been  able  to  give  him  a 
single  iota  of  information  about  the  real  author  of  the  fire 
which  had  burned  Simon's  house,  and  with  it  many  of  the 
unlucky  tenants.  David  was  confident  that  the  real  culprit 
would  be  found ;  that  meantime  bail  for  Joseph  would  yet 
be  accepted  ;  but  that  was  all. 

Left  alone,  Joseph  began  to  reflect  seriously  on  his  dni.y 
to  himself  in  the  matter.  The  most  serious  evidence  against 
him  seemed  to  be  furnished  by  his  presence  in  the  house 
at  the  time  the  conflagration  was  discovered,  and  the 
fact  that  he  had  cried  out  to  Simon,  on  the  night  when  the 
cloakmakers  had  gone  to  rescue  poor  Mother  Levitsky, 
something  about  having  his  houses  burned.  If  two,  three, 
or  a  half  dozen  of  the  hostile  seceders  from  his  Union  were 
to  swear  in  court  to  these  things,  Joseph  felt  convinced 
that  it  might  go  hard  with  him.  Was  Baumeister  at  the 
bottom  of  the  intrigue  ?  and  would  he  arise  to  swear  away 
Joseph's  life  and  liberty,  and  to  cause  him  to  be  forgotten 
of  men  ?  Was  he  capable  of  such  baseness  ? 

When  weeping  Malcha  came  to  see  him  that  same  day, 
Joseph  felt  as  if  his  heart  would  burst.  How  could  he 
answer  the  flood  of  questions  which  she  ponred  into  his  dis 
tracted  ears?  How  tell  her  that. he  was  with  Bathsheba 
In  the  burning  building,  and  that  he  had  rescued  her  from 
it  ?  The  blood  arose  to  his  cheek  as  he  thought  on  these 
things.  But  it  faded  away  again  when  Malcha,  who  was 
the  very  acme  of  goodness  and  patience,  and  whose  belief 
in  him  was  absolute,  told  him  that  in  a  day  or  two  she  was 
to  begin  work  in  a  cloakmaker's. 

Joseph  besought  her  not  to  do  it,  and  told  her  of  David's 
project  of  the  colony.  "  Wait  a  few  days,"  he  said,  with 
an  attempt  at  a  smile,  "and  all  will  be  well." 


256  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

But  Malcha  would  not  hear  of  it,  nor  of  any  reliance 
upon  David's  friendly  assistance.  To  the  machine  she 
would  go,  and  earn  her  own  living,  until  Joseph  should  be 
given  back  to  her.  And  there  was  a  fierce  resolution  in 
her  pallid  little  face  as  she  held  up  Zipporah  above  the 
railings  to  be  kissed,  and  went  away,  looking  back  with  a 
scared,  hunted  sort  of  glance  which  cut  Joseph's  pride 
severely. 

When  she  was  gone  Joseph  entered  his  cell,  and  fell  into 
such  a  paroxysm  of  despair  that  his  companion  feared  that 
he  would  attempt  his  own  life.  But  little  by  little  his 
courage  came  back,  and  he  steeled  his  soul  as  all  heroic 
natures  have  done  since  Society  invented  torture  for  those 
who  reprove  its  crimes  and  follies. 

By  contact  with  the  earth  he  got  new  strength,  like 
Antaeus.  He  was  thrown  down  and  trampled  on  ;  but  he 
felt  growing  within  him  an  infinite  strength  for  resistance 
to  suffering. 

Days  passed,  each  one  hailed  by  Joseph  as  likely  to 
produce  an  event,  and  each,  like  its  predecessor,  stealing 
away  slowly  amid  the  dull  round  of  prison  duties.  Now 
and  then  came  a  "  new  boarder,"  who  was  curiously  scanned 
by  all  the  old  pensioners,  and  at  once  rated.  Joseph  dis 
covered  that  the  tongue  of  scandal  and  slander  wagged  far 
more  busily  inside  prison  than  outside. 

Night  came,  with  its  awful  stillness,  its  locked  and  double- 
locked  gratings,  its  blackness,  which  seemed  as  if  it  must 
be  denser  than  that  of  the  tomb.  And  then  came  morning, 
with  click  and  clatter  of  locks  and  with  the  hundred  an 
noyances  to  which  Joseph  daily  subjected  his  poor  soul 
because  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  think  that  he  was  a 
prisoner. 

One  day,  after  he  had  been  in  the  "  Tombs  "  three  weeks, 
Joseph  was  seated  in  the  door  of  his  cell,  gazing  moodily 


THE   LIVING    TOMB  257 

into  the  glowing  coals  of  the  huge  heater  which,  winter  and 
summer,  does  duty  in  the  damp  and  unhealthy  corridor, 
when  "  the  visit  of  a  lady  "  was  announced. 

He  hastened  to  the  grating,  thinking  that  it  was  of  course 
Malcha  with  the  child. 

But  it  was  not  Malcha  and  Zipporah.  It  was  Bathsheba ; 
and  before  he  could  draw  back  from  the  grating  her  warm 
hands  had  touched  his  cold  ones,  and  had  sent  a  passionate 
thrill  through  his  whole  being. 

"No —  no,"  said  Joseph  faintly,  like  one  who  is  slowly 
swooning  ;  "  I  did  not  desire  to  see  you.  I  cannot  —  talk 
with  you  now." 

Bathsheba  did  not  speak  just  then.  She  withdrew  her 
hands  ;  her  cheeks  grew  ashy  pale,  and  she  stood  looking 
at  Joseph  through  the  bars  with  an  air  of  offended  majesty. 

"  Go  away,"  he  said ;  "  I  cannot  hear  anything  that  you 
have  come  to  say.  If  it  affords  you  pleasure  to  look  upon 
your  work,  gaze  at  it!  But  don't  expect  me  to  join  in. your 
joy  at  my  ruin  !  " 

The  woman  found  her  tongue  now.  Her  eyes  sparkled ; 
she  tossed  her  head  saucily,  and  stamped  her  feet  upon  the 
stone  floor. 

"  You  call  this  my  work  ! "  she  said.  "  And  after  I  was 
the  first  to  warn  you  !  " 

"A  pretty  warning  indeed !  You  found  me  walking  into 
the  trap,  and  did  not  tell  me  I  was  in  danger." 

Bathsheba  took  no  notice  of  this  accusation.  "  What  if 
I  were  to  tell  you  that  I  could  set  you  free  —  within  a 
week  ?"  she  whispered.  "  Would  you  believe  that  ?  " 

"  No.     I  do  not  think  that  I  shall  ever  be  free  again." 

Bathsheba  looked  at  him  in  unfeigned  surprise. 

"  Go  and  do  your  worst ! "  said  Joseph  with  a  fierce 
energy.  "  You  and  Baumeister  between  you  can  easily 
make  up  a  story  that  will  send  me  up  the  river." 


258  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"  His  mind  is  wandering,"  said  Bathsheba  in  a  low  tone, 
as  if  communing  with  herself.  "  I  tell  you,  man,  that  I  am 
going  to  set  you  free,"  she  said,  looking  at  him  as  if  she 
were  wondering  why  the  words  did  not  throw  him  into 
transports  of  joy.  Then  a  great  tear  rolled  down  one 
cheek,  and  was  speedily  followed  by  another.  "  In  a 
week.  You  will  see." 

"When  I  see  it  then  I  will  believe  it,"  said  Joseph. 
"You  will  have  to  produce  the  person  who  set  the  house 
on  fire.  Can  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  Perhaps." 

"  Then  it  is  your  duty.  Why  not  go  and  do  it,  instead 
of  coming  here  to  look  at  me  ?  " 

A  great  sigh  caused  Bathsheba's  bosom  to  heave  convul 
sively.  Her  eyes  overflowed  with  tears.  "  You  are  cruel, 
very  cruel,  Joseph,"  she  said ;  "  but  I  will  do  my  best  to 
save  you,  even  though  you  turn  away  from  me  forever  as 
you  do  now.  I- wan  ted  to  see  you,  to  tell  you  that  I  am 
once  more  at  work  studying  for  the  theatre  "  — 

"  The  theatre  !  "  cried  Joseph.  "  My  God  !  she  talks  of 
theatre,  as  if  we  had  not  enough  of  tragedy  in  real  life  !  " 

"  —  for  the  theatre,"  continued  Bathsheba,  not  heeding 
his  interruption.  "And  I  wanted  to  tell  you  of  Miryam  — 
she  will  recover." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Joseph.  "  Do  as  you  please ;  think 
as  you  please ;  act  for  me  or  against  me,  but  leave  me  now. 
Do  you  not  see  that  I  am  dead  and  buried  ?  Then  why 
hang  about  my  tomb  ?  " 

"I  came,"  concluded  Bathsheba,  "to  tell  you  those 
things,  and  to  bring  you  this."  She  threw  a  little  package 
inside  the  grating,  saying  in  very  good,  clear  English  to 
the  keeper  seated  near  by,  "'You  needn't  jump;  the  bundle 
has  already  been  looked  at."  Then  she  turned  around 
and  went  with  a  slow  and  stately  step  down  the  corridor. 


THE   LIVING    TOMB  259 

"Gad!  she's  a  hummer!"  said  the  keeper  coarsely. 
"  Sister  ?  "  he  asked  of  Joseph. 

The  vexed  and  worried  labor-leader  did  not  answer. 
Presently  he  picked  up  the  parcel  and  retired  with  it  to 
his  cell. 

It  contained  a  few  books,  among  them  a  little  yellow- 
covered  volume  of  Mordecai  Menzer's  "Songs  for  the 
People,"  with  the  famous  verses  which  had  awakened  the 
cloakmakers  "to  action  printed  on  the  first  page.  There 
were  some  bunches  of  grapes,  and  a  flower  or  two.  And 
on  the  top  of  all  these  poor  offerings  lay  a  picture  of 
Bathsheba  as  she  must  have  looked  when  a  school-girl 
in  that  far-off  Russia  which  now  seemed  separated  from 
Joseph  by  an  eternity  of  sorrow  and  suffering. 

Her  picture !  He  tore  it  into  shreds  with  such  fierceness 
that  his  cell  companion  smiled. 

But  next  day,  when  he  was  seated  at  his  grating,  gazing 
again  into  the  glowing  coals  through  the  open  door  of  the 
heater,  he  saw  the  face  of  the  picture  there,  looking 
mournfully  and  reproachfully  at  him. 


2GO  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    WONDER-KABBI 

BATHSHEBA  hastened  back  to  her  humble  lodgings,  where 
she  was  living  surrounded  by  misery  so  much  greater  than 
her  own  that  she  seemed  rich  by  comparison.  A  kind  of 
rage  against  Joseph,  against  fate,  against  the  whole  world, 
took  possession  of  her. 

So,  then,  there  were  no  illusions  left !  She  was  face  to 
face  with  the  barren  fact  that  Joseph  despised  and  dis 
dained  her. 

There  was  something  in  this  so  intolerably  humiliating 
to  Bathsheba's  pride  that  it  cut  her  to  the  heart.  The 
exquisite  torture  of  Joseph's  rebuff  seemed  also  to  bring 
her  thoughts  down  once  more  to  the  gloomy  level  whither 
they  had  descended  when  she  had  first  joined  the  "party 
of  force."  She  longed  to  wreak  upon  the  world,  upon 
Society,  the  vengeance  which  her  love  forbade  her  to 
undertake  against  him. 

As  she  wound  in  and  out  of  the  dirty  and  narrow  streets 
of  the  East  Side,  she  often  raised  her  hands  and  shook 
them  at  the  sky,  as  if  she  were  menacing  the  unseen  powers 
which  would  not  allow  her  to  shape  her  life  in  harmony 
with  her  own  conceptions  of  happiness. 

Spurned  !  Very  well !  she  would  study,  toil  night  and 
day,  become  a  great  actress,  gain  fabulous  sums  of  money, 
and  spend  them  in  fighting  this  grim,  unyielding  social 


THE   WONDER-RABBI  261 

order  which  was  inflicting  such  wretchedness  upon  Joseph 
and  tens  of  thousands  of  the  hapless  refugees.  She  felt 
that  she  could  attain  greatness. 

In  the  intensity  of  her  preoccupation  she  made  more 
gestures  —  fiercer  ones  ;  and,  pausing  at  a  corner,  she  tapped 
her  brow  dramatically,  asking  herself  aloud  in  Russian,  — 

"  Have  I  not  the  power  here  with  which  to  win  ?  " 

A  fat  policeman  lounging  near  by  observed  Bathsheba 
curiously.  He  crossed  the  street  toward  her,  saying,  "  Loony, 
1  guess,"  and  was  about  to  speak  to  her,  when  a  little  man 
with  red  hair  and  beard,  dressed  in  a  singularly  variegated 
collection  of  clothes,  came  up,  and,  greeting  Bathsheba,  led 
her  away. 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you  everywhere,"  said  Ben 
Zion,  with  a  certain  reproach  in  his  tone.  "  Ah  !  I  see  that 
you  are  admiring  my  new  clothes.  I  got  'em  at  a  bargain 
—  three  dollars  for  the  lot.  That  was  a  great  find." 

He  raised  his  hands,  and,  laying  the  palms  open  on  the 
air,  shook  them  up  and  down  as  if  weighing  imaginary 
money  which  lie  fancied  that  he  had  saved  by  his  bargain. 
"  Now,"  he  said,  "  you  will  not  be  ashamed  to  be  seen  in 
public  with  me.  And  do  you  know  —  I  have  got  a  clew." 

"Have  you?"  cried  Bathsheba  delightedly.  "What 
is  it  ?  " 

"  Hum  !  that  is  a  long  story.  You  must  come  with  me 
at  half-past  five  to  the  house  of  the  Wonder-Rabbi,  and  if 
there  we  don't  stumble  upon  something  to  prove  Joseph's 
innocence,  then  may  I  never  peddle  more  ! " 

"  The  Wonder-Rabbi  ?  What  is  that  ?  Some  cabalistic 
nonsense,  I  suppose,"  said  Bathsheba  disdainfully.  "Never 
mind,  I  will  go,  whatever  it  is  ;  for  at  the  mere  thought  of 
seeing  Herr  Joseph  free  my  heart  leaps  up  like  —  like  "  — 

"Ah!  it  isn't  every  Avoinan  I'd  ask  to  go  with  me  into 
the  Wonder-Rabbi's  house,"  said  Ben  Zion,  glancing  around, 


262  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

as  if  he  feared  being  overheard.  "Not  Malcha  now. 
She'd  spoil  everything.  Not  even  you,  unless  you  were 
cool  —  as  you  have  been  lately.  Will  you  meet  me,  then, 
at  the  Wonder-Rabbi's  door  at  half-past  five  ?  If  you  will 
promise,  I  will  give  you  the  address." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  come." 

Ben  Zion  handed  Bathsheba  a  greasy  slip  of  paper,  on 
which  was  written  the  number  of  a  house  in  an  adjacent 
street  —  a  neighborhood  tilled  with  the  very  poorest  people. 

"  Your  rabbi  must  be  a  '  wonder '  if  he  can  get  a  living 
in  that  neighborhood,"  said  Bathsheba. 

"  Pooh !  wise  men  can  live  where  the  foolish  starve," 
responded  the  pedler.  "  Now  I  will  run  home  and  see  if 
the  rats  have  carried  off  that  Baumeister  brat  —  but  I  know 
they  haven't,  for  he  kicks  at  them  like  a  little  thorough 
bred,  he  does !  " 

And  he  ran  away  before  Bathsheba  could  ask  him  why 
he  still  kept  the  child  which  he  had  saved  on  the  night  of 
the  great  fire. 

She  reflected  that  she  had  not  seen  Baumeister  since 
then,  and  she  resolved  to  ask  Ben  Zion  what  had  become 
of  him. 

Neither  Mordecai  nor  any  of  the  apostles  who  had  been 
grouped  under  Baumeister's  teaching  had  seen  him.  Had 
he  given  up  his  task  as  hopeless,  and  vanished  ? 

At  the  appointed  time  Bathsheba  met  Ben  Zion  at  the 
door  of  an  old-fashioned  house  in  a  little  corner  near 
Rivington  Street.  Two  generations  ago  this  had  been  a 
new  and  handsome  mansion,  set  in  a  pretty  garden,  with 
a  charming  outlook  over  the  East  River. 

Now  it  was  walled  in  at  front  and  back  by  acres  of  ugly 
scrambling  tenement  houses,  into  many  of  which  the  sun 
shine  crept  only  for  an  hour  daily. 

Near  the  door  stood  little  groups  of  refugees,  conversing 


THE    WONDER-RABBI 

in  whispers,  and  glancing  over  their  shoulders  at  the  door 
in  awestruck  fashion. 

"  He  is  certainly  a  great  man,  is  Reb  Moiser,"  said  an 
old  woman  in  a  quavering  voice.  "They  say  he  talks 
directly  with  Jehovah.  Every  Friday  night,  just  before 
the  services  in  the  synagogues,  he  has  ceremonies ;  and 
while  he  is  talking  with  Jehovah,  he  turns  white,  and  he 
groans  like  a  man  in  great  pain.  You  will  hear  him  to 
night.  And  I  know  that  he  can  cure  the  blind  and  make 
the  lame  walk !  " 

"I  must  try  him,  then,"  said  a  red-eyed  cloakmaker,  "for 
working  in  a  dark  corner  is  ruining  my  eyesight.  I  can 
scarcely  see  Mother  Abramovitch's  face  there,  six  feet 
away  !  " 

"  He's  the  man  for  your  money,  Reb  Moiser  is,"  croaked 
the  old  woman. 

"  Bah ! "  said  Bathsheba  to  Ben  Zion,  as  they  went  up  the 
steps,  "I  thought  you  were  above  things  like  this,  Ben 
Zion." 

"Wait  until  you  have  seen  Reb  Moiser,  and  you  will 
sing  another  tune,"  croaked  the  little  pedler  in  his  quaint 
guttural,  as  he  pushed  boldly  inuO  the  grimy  passage-way, 
and  beckoned  Bathsheba  to  follow  him. 

They  climbed  a  greasy  flight  of  stairs,  picking  their  way 
with  difficulty  among  the  infirm  old  women  seated  on  every 
other  step,  waiting  in  the  hope  of  seeing  the  Wonder-Rabbi, 
and  securing  his  precious  advice. 

Ben  Zion  turned  into  a  little  room  at  the  right,  where  sat 
a  tall,  gawky  youth,  accoutred,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the 
thermometer  registered  seventy,  in  a  heavy  long  cloak,  a 
pair  of  top-boots,  and  a  pointed  fur  cap,  which  gave  him 
a  fantastic  appearance,  as  if  he  had  walked  out  of  some 
mediaeval  chronicle,  and  suddenly  come  to  life. 

This  youth  peered  sharply  at  Ben  Zion  and  his  compan- 


264  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

ion  ;  then  taking  his  pen  in  hand,  as  if  preparing  to  make 
an  entry  iii  the  great  book  which  lay  open  before  him,  he 
cried,  — 

"  Approach,  Jew  !  " 

"  Well,  well,  here  we  are,  as  the  bear  said  to  the  moujik 
when  he  bit  his  head  off,"  responded  Ben  Zion  querulously. 

"Silence!"  said  the  youth,  looking  askance  at  the  ped- 
ler;  "  this  is  no  place  for  laughter." 

"  Yes,  we  know  it  isn't  a  theatre ;  but  you  needn't  be  so 
crusty  about  it,"  piped  up  Ben  Zion. 

"  Who  are  you,  what  is  your  name,  your  age,  and  how 
many  children  have  you?"  said  the  youth  glibly,  at  the 
same  time  motioning  Bathsheba  to  step  forward 

Bathsheba  was  amazed  to  hear  the  little  pr  Her  answer 
with  equal  glibness,  — 

"  I  am  a  clothing  dealer,  named  Rosenstein,  forty  years 
old,  a  widower  with  four  children,  and  this  is  uiy  poor  sis 
ter  who  lives  with  me." 

This  astonishing  statement  almost  took  Bathsheba's 
breath  away,  and  she  was  about  to  denounce  lien  Zion, 
when  she  suddenly  perceived  that  he  was  playing  a  game 
for  some  purpose,  as  yet  hidden,  and  she  decided  to  hold 
her  peace. 

"Good  !  "  said  the  youth,  flourishing  his  pen  as  if  he  were 
imparting  a  benediction.  "And  how  do  you  know,  Jew,  that 
Rabbi  Moiser  will  consent  to  see  you  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  am  sure,"  said  Ben  Zion,  instantly  assuming  a 
cringing  attitude,  "that  he  would  not  have  the  heart  to 
refuse  us.  We  are  in  great  trouble,  and  no  one  but  the 
rabbi  can  help  us." 

"You  must  pay  fifteen  cents  each,"  said  the  youth,  ex 
tending  a  bulbous  paw. 

The  money  was  paid  by  Ben  Zion,  who  grumbled  that  it 
was  "  very  dear,"  and  the  youth  arose  and  lumbered  into 


THE   WONDER-RABBI  265 

an  inner  room.  Returning  after  a  little,  he  ushered  the  vis 
itors  before  the  far-famed  and  redoubtable  Wonder-Rabbi. 

That  personage  proved  to  be  a  corpulent  and  mild-looking 
man,  with  a  yellowish  complexion,  a  fat  face,  with  a  beak- 
like  nose,  and  an  iron-gray  beard  which  rippled  down  upon 
his  breast,  where  it  was  neatly  parted. 

He  wore  a  black  silk  gown,  and  his  head  was  crowned 
with  a  conical  fur  cap,  around  which  a  few  languid  flies 
were  buzzing,  as  if  they  felt  certain  that  coolness  must 
linger  in  such  Arctic  headgear. 

The  room  was  darkened,  and  on  a  little  desk  two  long 
tapers  were  burning.  By  this  dim  light  Bathsheba  could 
see  that  the  rabbi's  eyes  twinkled  merrily,  and  that  he  was 
no  whit  austere  of  mien. 

As  Ben  Zion  moved  forward  the  Wonder-Rabbi  opened 
his  lips,  and  in  a  solemn  voice  said,  — 

"  You  are  a  clothing  dealer,  named  Rosenstein,  forty 
years  old,  a  widower  with  four  children,  and  this  is  your 
sister  who  lives  with  you." 

"0  Rabbi,"  said  Ben  Zion,  seemingly  overwhelmed  with 
this  evidence  of  supernatural  divination,  "  great  and  learned 
man !  we  know  that  you  hold  converse  with  Jehovah,  and 
we  have  come  to  you  for  help." 

"  You  are  well  and  hearty,  both  of  you,"  remarked  the 
Wonder-Rabbi,  rising  and  advancing  toward  them  with 
measured  pace.  "  Why  do  you  come  to  me  ?  Do  you  know 
that  I  can  read  your  souls  if  I  will  ?  " 

"  We  know,  great  and  learned  man,"  answered  Ben  Zion, 
affecting  to  tremble,  "  that  you  who  can  talk  with  Heaven 
can  read  our  hearts.  We  know  that  there  are  no  secrets 
from  you,  and  so  we  have  brought  our  troubles  to  you.  Is 
it  your  will  to  advise  us  before  we  tell  our  story  ?  "  he 
added,  with  a  malicious  wink,  which  made  Bathsheba  bite 
her  lip  to  refrain  from  laughing  in  the  rabbi's  face. 


266  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"  I  could  advise  you,  son,  but  it  is  better  to  hear  first 
what  you  have  to  say,  that  I  may  see  in  what  temper  your 
soul  is.  And  if  you  intend  to  consult  me,  my  fee  is  fifty 
cents  each." 

Ben  Zion  began  puffing  and  blowing  and  protesting  that 
it  was  ruinous.  But  he  finally  produced  two  discolored 
half-dollars,  which  were  laid  upon  the  little  desk.  And 
now  the  Wonder-Rabbi's  eyes  twinkled  again. 

"  Speak,  Jew,"  he  said  with  solemn  unction,  folding  his 
fat  hands  across  his  breast. 

"It  is  this  way,  great  and  learned  man,"  said  Ben  Zion, 
still  affecting  utmost  humility.  "  We  are  poor  folk,  as 
I  told  your  learned  and  worthy  self  just  now,  and  'tis  a 
chance  with  us,  as  the  bee  said  in  the  frost-bitten  garden, 
if  we  manage  to  pick  up  a  living  in  this  land  of  refuge. 
Now,  it  happened  that  the  other  day  a  tenement  house  not 
far  from  where  we  live  was  burned,  and,  while  I  was  rum 
maging  round  at  the  back  of  the  burning  house,  seeing  if  I 
could  not  save  something  or  somebody,  bang  !  I  felt  a  bur 
den  come  down  on  my  shoulders,  and  when  I  pulled  myself 
together  and  looked  at  it,  it  was  a  little  baby,  three-fourths 
bones,  with  precious  small  life  in 'em  —  a  kind  of  living 
skeleton,  dressed  in  rags,  learned  rabbi." 

Ben  Zion  paused,  caught  his  breath,  and  glanced  warily 
out  of  the  corner  of  one  eye  at  Bathsheba,  to  see  that  she 
maintained  her  role  accurately.  Then  he  continued,  — 

"  'Surely,'  I  said  to  myself,  'this  small  creature  must 
have  been  thrown  from  the  house  by  some  half-crazy 
mother,  who,  poor  thing,  is  most  likely  burned  to  a  cinder 
by  this  time,  so  I'll  take  charge  of  it  for  a  moment,  and 
give  it  food  and  drink,  as  the  ravens  fed  Elijah,  because 
there  seemed  to  be  no  one  else  to  do  it.'  Yes ;  and  I  got 
away  from  the  house  lest  the  walls  might  fall  upon  me  ;  and 
I  opened  the  little  bundle  of  rags,  and  took  the  small  bag 


THE   WONDER-RABBI  267 

of  bones  by  the  hand,  and  I  grinned  at  it,  and  said  '  Scholem 
alaichem  ! '  and  I  thought  the  brat's  lips  answered  back, 
'  Alaichem  scholem  ! '  Then  I  fetched  the  creature  away, 
and  near  by  on  the  ground  I  found  a  man  in  a  fit." 

"  Silence,  Jew  !  "  said  the  Wonder-Rabbi,  arising  and  lift 
ing  one  hand  with  a  gesture  intended  to  be  majestic.  "  I 
shall  now  give  you  a  proof  of  my  power,  so  that  you  may 
never  venture  to  doubt  it  hereafter." 

The  wild  looks  of  Ben  Zion  and  Bathsheba  betrayed  their 
astonishment. 

"  The  name  of  the  man  whom  you  found  lying  on  the 
ground  in  a  fit  is  Baumeister.  He  is  a  Socialist,  or  some 
thing  like  that.  And  the  child  which  you  had  rescued  was 
his  child,  which  he  had  wished  to  destroy  and  forget ! " 

"Great  Rabbi!"  stammered  Ben  Zion,  "I  was  convinced 
that  everything  past  and  present  and  future  is  known  to 
you." 

The  Wonder-Rabbi  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height, 
and  looked  at  his  visitors  with  a  triumphant  smile. 

"  There  are  those,"  he  said,  '•'  who  have  presumed  to 
doubt  my  power.  I  think,  in  future,  you  will  not  be  of 
the  number.  And  to  convince  you  thoroughly  of  my  wis 
dom,  I  will  tell  you  something  which  until  this  moment 
has  remained  a  secret  with  me." 

Then,  in  a  sort  of  mystical  chant,  he  added  this  singular 
phrase  :  — 

<•'  The  mother,  deserted  by  the  father  and  husband,  camo 
far  across  seas  with  her  child  to  find  him.  And  when  she 
had  come  near  to  him,  and  had  made  her  presence  known 
to  him,  she  perished  in  the  flames,  but  the  child  was  spared 
to  confound  the  father." 

Ben  Zion  began  dancing  and  capering  about  the  room 
until  the  tapers  on  the  small  desk  rattled.  "Prove  me 
this,  learned  Rabbi,"  he  said,  halting  suddenly  in  his  mad 


268  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

career,  "and  I  will  see  that  a  purse  of  five  hundred  dollars 
is  made  up  for  you,  and  that  your  reputation  as  a  learned 
man  who  talks  with  Heaven  is  sounded  to  the  four  quarters 
of  the  refuge  colony." 

Now  the  Wonder-Rabbi's  eyes  sparkled  again,  but  this 
time  it  was  with  avarice. 

"  Your  chief  rabbi,  and  your  leaders  in  the  synagogues, 
speak  ill  of  me,"  he  said.  "But  there  is  not  one  among 
them  who  could  tell  you  what  I  have  told  you  —  that 
Baumeister  is  the  father  of  the  foundling  which  you 
picked  up." 

Bathsheba  looked  around  her  uneasily.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  the  place  was  bewitched.  The  dim  light,  the  pompous 
manner  of  the  Wonder-Rabbi,  the  musty  odors  exhaled 
from  the  tapers  and  from  the  rabbi's  fur  cap,  all  im 
pressed  her  unpleasantly.  She  felt  like  running  away,  and 
was  turning  to  do  so,  when  the  grave  voice  of  the  rabbi 
was  heard  again :  — 

"And  now  tell  me  your  trouble,  my  children,  for  you. 
have  not  come  to  that  yet.  But  before  you  proceed  further 
in  this  business  we  shall  demand  a  new  fee  of  two  dollars 
each." 

Without  a  grumble  this  time  Ben  Zion  counted  out  the 
money.  "  Our  trouble !  "  he  cried  in  cheerful  tones  ;  "  you 
know  well  enough  what  it  is !  We  want  to  know  what 
Baumeister  was  doing  so  near  the  fire  that  night,  and  why 
his  child  was  in  danger  there  ?  " 

Bathsheba's  heart  stood  still  for  an  instant.  Did  the 
Wonder-Rabbi  know  that  she  had  been  in  the  house,  and 
that  both  she  and  Baumeister  had  been  rescued  thence  by 
Joseph  ?  What  would  he  say  of  her  ? 

If  he  knew  this  he  made  no  allusion  to  it. 

"  And  what  is  the  reason  that  you  are  so  curious  about 
Baumeister  ?  "  he  said. 


THE   •WOXDEE-KABBI  269 

"  Because  an  innocent  man,"  shouted  Ben  Zion,  "  is  lying 
in  prison,  accused  of  burning  a  house  and  the  people  in  it ; 
and  because,  if  you  can  prove  that  Baumeister  did  the  job, 
our  friend  will  be  free,  and  you  will  have  the  five  hundred 
dollars  !  Do  you  understand  that,  old  man  ?  "  shouted  the 
pedler,  entirely  forgetting  his  reverence  and  his  manners 
in  the  joy  at  the  thought  that  he  might  serve  as  the  instru 
ment  of  Joseph's  release. 

The  Wonder-Rabbi  did  not  lose  control  of  himself.  He 
kept  his  role  to  perfection.  "  You  shall  hear  more,  my 
children,"  he  said,  advancing  toward  them,  and  smiling 
serenely  as  Bathsheba  held  up  her  arm  to  ward  him  off,  as 
if  she  suspected  him  of  casting  a  spell  upon  her. 

He  resumed  his  mystical  tone,  as  if  listening  to  revela 
tions  which  came  to  him  from  an  unseen  world;  and  in  a 
species  of  rhythmical  chant  he  uttered  these  words  :  — 

"  Esther  was  her  name.  She  was  the  wife  of  his  youth, 
and  he  basely  deserted  her.  From  Podolia  she  came  hither 
to  find  him.  Then  the  husband  and  father  was  wroth  with 
the  wife,  and  sought  to  destroy  her  with  fire." 

"  How  do  you  know  all  this  ?  "  cried  Bathsheba,  spring 
ing  forward.  "  Did  Baumeister  fire  Simon's  house  so  that 
his  wife  and  child  might  be  burned  alive  in  it  ?  Speak, 
man  !  Don't  you  know  that  Justice  demands  it  ?  " 

The  Wonder-Rabbi  concealed  his  fat  hands  in  the  folds 
of  his  sleeves,  and  smiled  pleasantly  on  the  excited  woman. 
"  I  can  tell  no  more  now,"  he  said  softly. 

"But  the  innocent  man  in  the  'Tombs'!"  cried 
Bathsheba. 

"  And  the  five  hundred  dollars  ! "  shouted  Ben  Zion. 

"When  I  have  them  in  hand,  Jew,"  said  the  Wonder- 
Rabbi,  "we  can  proceed  further." 

Ben  Zion  hung  his  head.  He  was  convinced  that  he  had 
promised  too  much.  "  I  am  a  poor  man,  learned  Rabbi,"  he 


270  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

said,  "  but  if  a  quarter  of  that  sum  would  do,  I  could  raise 
it  by  to-morrow  night.'l 

"It  will  do  to  begin  with,"  said  the  Wonder-Rabbi, 
bringing  out  his  fat  hands,  and  rubbing  them  briskly. 
"  But  the  witnesses  against  Baumeister  are  few  and  feeble. 
If  the  mother  was  burned  in  the  fire  "  — 

"And  how  did  you  know  the  mother  ?  "  asked  Bathsheba. 

The  Wonder-Rabbi  did  not  notice  her  question.  He  was 
studying  Ben  Zion  very  carefully.  At  last  he  said,  — 

"  Do  you  know  where  this  Baumeister  can  be  found  ?  " 

"  I  can  produce  him,"  said  Ben  Zion. 

"  Then  see  that  he  is  at  the  meeting  in  the  lower  rooms 
of  this  house  to-morrow,  which  will  be  Friday  evening,  and 
if  he  is  guilty,  he  shall  confess  then  and  there !  " 

"  Alleluia ! "  cried  Ben  Zion.  "  The  work  is  done. 
Joseph  is  free.  The  Devil  is  beaten !  And  now  I  must 
not  lose  a  minute  in  finding  out  Baumeister,  and  telling 
such  a  tale  that  he  will  be  sure  to  come  here  to  defend 
himself.  Then,  crack  !  the  trap  shuts  and  the  fox  is  taken. 
And  I  will  see  to  your  money,  worthy  man." 

"No  more  to-day,"  said  the  Wonder-Rabbi  sleepily. 
"Be  sure  to  have  Baumeister  here  before  eight  o'clock, 
and  to  be  here  yourselves.  The  rest  —  trust  to  me !  " 

He  gave  them  a  piercing  glance,  and  then  retired  and 
sank  back  upon  his  chair  and  closed  his  eyes.  Bathsheba 
could  almost  have  sworn  that  she  saw  him  vanish  in  a 
cloud  among  flashes  of  flame,  like  Don  Juan  in  the  opera. 

She  went  out  like  one  walking  in  a  dream,  and  when  they 
were  safely  in  the  street,  she  burst  upon  Ben  Zion  wrth  an 
impetuous  flood  of  questions. 

"How  could  that  old  humbug  know  all  about  Bau 
meister  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  answered  Ben  Zion.  "  'T  was  easy. 
This  was  the  way.  One  day  an  old  woman  came  to  my 


THE   WONDER-llABBI  271 

cellar  to  borrow  a  few  apples,  and  she  saw  the  child. 
'  Miracles  of  Moses ! '  she  says,  '  but  I  saw  that  baby  in  a 
woman's  arms  at  the  house  of  the  Wonder-Rabbi  not  two 
weeks  ago,'  she  says.  'And  what's  the  Wonder-Rabbi?' 
s:iys  I.  '  Why,  the  old  man  who  knows  everything,  and 
talks  with  Heaven!'  says  she.  Then  I  began  to  see  a 
light,  and  I  says,  'Ben  Zion,  here's  your  clew!'  And  I 
followed  it  up,  as  you  see." 

"  How  ?  "  stammered  Bathsheba. 

"  Why,  the  woman  with  this  child,  which  is  the  living 
image  of  Baumeister,  might  be  Baumeister's  wife.  She  is 
hustled  over  to  America  with  a  lot  of  refugees,  and  landed 
here  in  this  devil's  Babel.  She  wants  to  find  her  husband. 
So  the  first  man  she  makes  for  is  the  Wonder-Rabbi,  like 
the  poor  ignorant  thing  that  she  is  !  He  takes  her  money 
for  his  worthless  advice.  But  he  takes  her  address  too, 
and  he  follows  up  her  movements  with  Ins  spies  —  these 
old  fakirs  all  have  their  confederates.  You  can  be  sure 
that  he  knew  as  soon  as  we  did  that  Baumeister  wished  to 
get  rid  of  her,  and  that  he  was  only  waiting  the  right  time 
to  spring  the  whole  thing  on  him." 

"  0  Ben  Zion !  if  this  could  all  be  true ! "  sighed 
Bathsheba. 

"  Ah,  woman,  if  you  had  been  gifted  with  a  head  as  long 
as  mine,  you  would  have  found  out  these  things  for  your 
self  already  ! " 

Ben  Zion  was  an  active  enemy.  Before  dawn  of  the 
next  day  a  rumor  was  spread  through  the  whole  cloak- 
makers'  district  that  the  Wonder-Rabbi,  the  mystical  man 
who  talked  with  Heaven,  had,  in  a  trance,  declared  that 
Baumeister  was  the  author  of  the  crime  for  which  Joseph 
was  suffering  in  prison. 

As  it  spread  rapidly  from  garret  to  garret,  it  grew  in 


272  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

proportions,  and  by  the  time  it  reached  the  ears  of  Bau 
meister,  who  had  been  lying  sick  of  hunger  and  fever  in 
the  lodgings  of  one  of  his  Socialist  disciples,  since  the  con 
flagration,  it  was  a  terrible  tale. 

"  You  must  go  to  the  Wonder-Rabbi's  house  and  give 
him  the  lie  in  his  teeth,  or  you  are  a  lost  man,"  said  his 
friends  to  Baumeister.  "  The  cloakmakers  will  mob  you 
unless  you  speak  out !  " 

And  so  Baumeister  arose  from  his  couch  of  unfinished 
cloaks  and  coats,  and,  looking  like  a  ghost,  went  swagger 
ing  about,  saying  that  he  would  be  at  the  Wonder-Rabbi's 
house,  and  would  confound  the  liar  in  his  teeth,  that  very 
evening. 

His  fierce  looks,  his  trembling  limbs,  his  wild  language, 
convinced  most  of  those  who  saw  him  that  he  was  guilty. 
But  his  followers  clung  around  him,  and  said  that  he  would 
drive  the  rabbi  out  of  town. 

David  had  been  communicated  with,  and  after  having 
prudently  looked  the  Wonder-Rabbi  over,  had  privately 
said  to  that  strange  personage,  — 

"  T  have  no  doubt  that  you  are  an  old  fakir,  but  you  may 
have  secured  knowledge  of  some  facts  which  will  help  us." 
Then  he  showed  him  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  "  It  is 
yours,"  he  said,  "if  Baumeister  confesses  publicly  to-night." 

"  Have  no  fear,"  said  the  Wonder-Rabbi. 

At  eight  o'clock  Friday  evening  the  crowd  was  dense  in 
front  of  the  Wonder-Rabbi's  house,  and  a  yell  of  angry 
disapproval  was  heard  as  Baumeister,  pale,  disordered,  and 
with  his  eyes  staring  before  him  as  if  he  saw  ghosts,  pushed 
past  the  throng,  and,  escorted  by  seven  or  eight  of  his  fol 
lowers,  entered  the  house. 

The  front  rooms  below  were  filled  with  women  convers 
ing  together  in  awestruck  whispers.  Some  of  them  had 


THE   WONDER-RABBI  273 

brought  ailing  children,  for  whom  they  intended  to  bespeak 
the  Wonder-Rabbi's  advice,  when  he  had  finished  his  talk 
with  Heaven.  A  tall  boy  dressed  in  a  shiny  black  Rus 
sian  coat  was  placing  fish,  bread,  and  black  wine  upon  a 
table  on  which  four  tapers  were  burning. 

Presently  came  a  second  boy,  wearing  a  long  black  coat 
and  a  fur  cap,  and  little  curls  in  front  of  his  ears.  He 
covered  the  bread  and  fish  with  a  white  napkin,  and  then, 
sitting  down,  seemed  absorbed  in  silent  prayer. 

The  excitement  was  now  intense.  Women  climbed  on 
the  benches,  ranged  at  the  ends  of  the  packed  room,  and 
craned  their  necks  to  see  better. 

Suddenly  two  folding  doors  leading  to  what  had  been  in 
old  times  the  back  parlor  of  the  mansion  were  thrown  open, 
and  the  Wonder-Rabbi  appeared.  He  wore  a  white  fleecy 
robe,  dotted  with  stars  cut  in  tinsel.  This  robe  hung 
loosely  above  a  long  black  surplice  of  rabbinical  cut.  On 
his  head  was  perched  his  conical  fur  cap,  and  his  flowing 
beard  was  neatly  combed. 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  began  to  walk 
with  solemn  pace  towards  his  seat  at  the  table. 

At  that  instant  Baumeister,  at  the  head  of  his  troop  in 
the  passage,  caught  sight  of  the  white  robe  and  the  fur 
cap. 

"  That's  the  old  fakir,  there,  is  it  ?  "  he  cried.  "  That's 
the  charlatan  who  tries  to  take  away  my  good  name  !  Let 
me  get  at  him,  and  I'll  teach  him  to  keep  from  slander  in 
future  !  Yes,  and  then  I'll  hand  him  over  to  the  police  for 
swindling  the  poor  people  ! " 

An  ominous  roar  behind  Baumeister  indicated  that  he 
had  some  backers  who  were  courageous  enough  to  help  him. 

"  Bring  the  old  fox  out !  "  shouted  Baumeister,  "  and 
I'll  teach  him  to  talk  of  honest  men  !  " 

David,  Bathsheba,  and  Ben  Zion,  huddled  in  a  corner, 
watched  the  scene  with  eager  curiosity. 


274  JO8K1MI    ZALMONAH 

The  Wonder-Rabbi  removed  his  hands  from  his  face. 

"Is  that  Baumeister ? "  he  said  in  a  deep  voice.  "Let 
him  come  and  stand  here  before  me!" 

The  crowd  parted  to  right  and  left,  the  women  and  chil 
dren  falling  over  each  other,  and  Baumeister  strode  defi 
antly  in,  and  went  up  to  the  Wonder-Rabbi  with  menacing 
air. 

But  the  Wonder-Rabbi  advanced  upon  him,  and,  pointing 
at  him  with  his  long  right  forefinger,  he  said,  employing 
the  familiar  "  thou  "  of  the  jargon,  — 

"  Baumeister,  thou  hast  no  secrets  from  me  !  Esther  was 
thy  wife's  name.  She  was  the  wife  of  thy  youth,  and  thou 
didst  basely  desert  her.  From  Podolia  she  came  hither 
with  her  child  to  find  thee.  Then  thou  wert  wroth  with 
'her,  thy  wife,  and  thou  didst  destroy  her  with  fire  !" 

At  the  last  words  he  raised  his  voice  to  a  high,  sharp 
pitch,  which  so  affected  the  overwrought  nerves  of  the 
women  that  they  screamed  and  wailed. 

Baumeister  staggered  back  as  if  he  had  received  an 
arrow  in  the  breast.  "  This  man  is  a  demon  !  "  he  said 
hoarsely.  "  He  knows  all  things.  Esther  was  her  name. 
From  Podolia  she  came.  And  I  did  it.  It  is  true.  I  did 
it.  I  destroyed  her  with  fire.  All  the  world  must  know  it 
now." 

He  uttered  a  loud  cry,  reeled,  and  fell  down  in  a  fit. 

David  felt  Bathsheba's  head  heavy  upon  his  shoulder. 
She  had  fainted. 

The  Wonder-Rabbi  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  again, 
and,  guided  by  his  sons,  moved  slowly  to  his  chair,  and 
took  his  seat  at  the  mystic  table. 


THE  SWEATEES'  TRIUMPH  275 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  SWEATERS'  TRIUMPH 

DAVID  was  anxious  to  get  through  with  the  "little  tra 
gedy,"  as  he  called  it,  and  to  fly  to  Joseph  with  the  news 
which  established  his  innocence.  But  a  moment's  reflection 
convinced  him  that  not  all  the  cheering  tales  in  the  world 
could  extricate  the  young  labor-leader  from  his  cell  that 
night,  and  that  it  would  be  best  to  devote  himself  to  others 
for  the  moment. 

An  old  woman  sprang  to  the  relief  of  Bathsheba,  who 
had  sunk  into  a  death-like  swoon ;  and  seeing  her  cared  for, 
David  and  Ben  Zion  tried  to  make  their  way  through  the 
densely  packed  throng,  and  to  see  that  measures  were  taken 
for  the  arrest  of  Baumeister. 

But  this  duty  was  taken  out  of  their  hands,  for  the  cloak- 
makers  had  clamorously  besought  a  policeman's  services ; 
and  presently  a  blue-coated  guardian,  as  round  as  a  barrel, 
and  almost  as  unwieldy,  came  into  the  house,  and  laid  about 
him  so  vigorously  with  his  elbows  and  fists,  that  he  reached 
Baumeister,  had  him  aroused  out  of  his  fit,  set  upon  his 
feet,  and  arrested  in  very  short  order.  Baumeister's  par 
tisans  made  a  terrible  clamor,  and  threatened  to  tear  the 
officer  limb  from  limb ;  but  secretly  they  were  much  alarmed 
for  their  own  safety,  and  eager  to  get  away. 

The  Wonder-Rabbi  sat  very  quietly  at  his  table,  still  keep 
ing  his  face  covered.  But  from  time  to  time  he  groaned 


276  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

and  struggled,  and  uttered  fragmentary  exclamations  sup 
posed  to  be  ancient  Hebrew ;  and  the  old  crones  said  that 
he  was  beginning  to  talk  with  Heaven. 

This  did  not  hinder  the  policeman  from  interrupting  him 
long  enough  to  tell  him  that  he  would  probably  be  wanted 
as  a  witness,  and  that  he  must  not  attempt  to  decamp  under 
pain  of  being  sent  to  the  House  of  Detention. 

There  was  small  danger  of  the  Wonder-Rabbi's  flight. 
He  saw,  with  his  usual  cunning,  that  his  mysterious  un 
veiling  of  the  real  criminal  in  the  now  celebrated  arson 
case  would  be  attributed  by  the  poor  uneducated  folk  to 
supernatural  power,  and  not  to  the  simple  fact  that  the  de 
serted  Esther's  first  visit  on  her  arrival  in  New  York  had 
been  to  his  house,  where  she  hoped  that  she  might  by  some 
sorcery  gain  tidings  of  Baumeister. 

The  seance  was  broken  up  by  the  incursion  of  the  police 
man,  the  arrest  of  Baumeister  and  one  or  two  of  his  follow 
ers,  and  the  catechising  of  the  Wonder-Rabbi.  When 
Baumeister,  who  since  his  fit  seemed  to  have  fallen  into  a 
semi-conscious  state,  had  been  dragged  away,  the  throng 
diminished  ;  and  presently  no  one  was  left  save  a  very  old 
Jew  in  a  shiny  black  hat  of  exceedingly  ancient  fashion, 
with  corkscrew  curls  dangling  in  front  of  his  ears.  He 
sat  swaying  back  and  forth,  and  wagging  his  head  in  a  sort 
of  religious  ecstasy,  long  after  even  the  most  superstitious 
of  the  old  women  had  vanished,  and  the  Wonder-Rabbi  had 
retired  to  an  upper  room  to  receive  the  reward,  which  David 
paid  him  gladly. 

"  Ouf !  "  said  David  as  he  left  the  house,  accompanied  by 
the  now  restored  Bathsheba  and  Ben  Zion.  "  I  am  glad  to 
be  out  of  that  atmosphere.  '  He  who  mixes  with  unclean 
things  becomes  unclean  himself,' "  he  said,  almost  uncon 
sciously  quoting  the  rabbinical  proverb.  "That  old  fakir 
laid  his  plans  very  nicely,"  he  added.  "Of  course  it  is 


THE  SWEATERS'  TRIUMPH  277 

clear  that  Baumeister's  wife,  the  minute  she  reached  here 
from  Podalia,  Avent  iu  search  of  the  Wonder-Rabbi ;  and  he 
and  his  spies  found  the  man,  and  sent  the  wife  to  him  to 
claim  her  rights.  Then  came  the  arson,  which  gave  the 
old  pretender  a  chance  to  turn  a  penny." 

"  A  penny  !  "  said  Ben  Zion  scornfully ;  "  a  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  you  mean.  Why,  it  is  a  fortune  to  him  !  And 
that  is  the  reason  that  I  mean  to  watch  his  house  to-night, 
to  make  sure  that  he  doesn't  give  us  -the  slip.  He  may  be 
afraid  that  his  practices  will  come  to  light  and  get  him 
into  trouble.  And  you,  Bathsheba,  what  will  3-011  do  ? " 
said  Ben  Zion  kindly,  noticing  her  worried  and  perturbed 
look. 

"  She  is  going  with  me  now,  to  take  Malcha  the  good 
news,"  said  David. 

Bathsheba  gave  him  a  lightning  look  out  of  the  corners 
of  her  eyes  ;  but  David  either  did  not  see  it,  or  pretended 
that  he  did  not. 

"And  then,"  he  said,  "she  can  goto  the  theatre,  and  stay 
with  poor  Miryam,  who  will  also  be  glad  to  learn  such  good 
news.  Dear  little  soul  !  I  should  believe  that  she  is  half  in 
love  with  Joseph  if  I  did  not  know  that  she  is  overcome  by 
her  reverence  for  him." 

"Ah,"  remarked  Ben  Zion,  assuming  a  discouraged  air. 
"  I  must  have  the  Baumeister  brat  provided  for  somewhere  ; 
for  if  it  is  left  alone  in  my  cellar  so  much,  the  rats  will  be 
carrying  it  off." 

"We  will  take  it  to  the  colony  with  us,"  said  David 
quietly  :  "  if  the  mother  was  really  burned  in  that  house  " — 

"  And  if  she  wasn't  she  would  not  be  much  good,"  inter 
rupted  Ben  Zion. 

—  "  It  is  our  duty  to  care  for  the  little  creature.  And  you, 
too,  will  come  with  us  to  the  colony,  won't  you,  Bathsheba?  " 

David   had   never  addressed  her   so   familiarly   before. 


278  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

Something  in  his  voice  touched  an  emotional  chord.  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  answered,  — 

"  You  are  forgetting,  in  your  desire  to  be  kind  to  me,  that 
I  am  studying  very  hard  for  the  stage,  and  that  my  husband 
is  soon  coming  home." 

"  True,"  said  David  dryly  ;  "  I  had  quite  forgotten  that. 
And  then  you  will  want  to  stay  here  to  see  Baumeister's 
trial.  But  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken  he  will  never  be 
tried.  He  is  as  crazy  as  a  bear  when  the  bees  are  stinging 
him." 

"When  Ben  Zion  had  left  them  they  tramped  rather 
wearily  to  Joseph's  domicile.  Bathsheba  talked  freely  to 
David,  expressing  gratitude  for  his  offer  to  include  her  in 
his  colony  project,  and  protesting  that  her  duty  lay  in  New 
York. 

When  she  learned  that  David  intended  to  take  the  lib 
erated  Joseph  and  Malcha  with  him,  she  gave  him  another 
piercing  look,  which  he  seemed  to  feel  to  the  very  marrow 
of  his  bones,  but  she  remarked  simply,  — 

"  I  should  hate  the  country.  It  is  the  whirl  and  turmoil 
of  the  city  which  stimulates  me  to  life." 

"  I  suppose, "  said  David  with  the  most  innocent  manner, 
"that  the  'party  of  force  '  will  expire,  now  that  Baumeis- 
ter  has  been  taken  in  such  a  sin  ?  " 

A  spasm  of  pain  passed  over  Bathsheba's  beautiful  face, 
and  a  moment  later  it  was  followed  by  a  darker  shadow. 

"  Don't  put  me  on  the  rack  to-night,  please, "  she  said 
with  such  a  piteous  appeal  in  her  voice  that  David  re 
proached  himself  for  a  brutality  of  which  he  was  not 
really  guilty. 

When  they  reached  Joseph's  house  they  found  lights 
dancing  about,  and  heard  little  Zipporah  shouting  for  joy, 
and  Malcha  sobbing  hysterically.  Then  they  felt  that  the 
good  news  had  reached  there  before  them. 


THE  SWEATERS'  TRIUMPH  279 

Some  of  the  cloakmakers  had  run  all  the  way,  and  were 
now  sitting,  breathless  and  dust-stained,  on  the  steps,  talk 
ing  loudly  and  excitedly.  Half  a  dozen  of  them  were  vol 
unteering  to  go  to  the  "  Tombs,"  and  demand  their  leader's 
release;  but  when  David  had  told  them  that  they  would 
probably  succeed  only  in  getting  locked-up  themselves, 
they  renounced  their  wild  scheme,  and  sat  picking  their 
nails  and  looking  black. 

They  felt  an  imperious  need  of  vengeance  upon  some 
body  ;  a  desire  to  cut,  burn,  destroy,  for  the  sake  of  showing 
that  they  could  and  would  resent  the  manner  in  which 
their  leader  had  been  treated. 

Old  Manasseh  and  his  daughter  Shiphrah  were  there, 
seated  humbly  in  a  corner,  amusing  the  small  Zipporah, 
while  Malcha  "  had  her  cry  out." 

"  There,  there  !  "  said  the  old  man  arising  at  last,  and  hob 
bling  over  to  Malcha,  " '  tears  solace  the  heart,  but  beware 
lest  they  leave  wrinkles/  the  wise  man  said.  Come,  dry 
these  drops,  girl,  and  be  patient^until  the  morning." 

"And  if  they  should  find  some  new  excuse  for  keeping 
him  longer  than  to-morrow, "  said  Malcha.  "  Oh,  I  could 
not  bear  it  any  longer !  " 

As  she  said  these  words  she  turned,  and  saw  David  and 
Bathsheba  facing  her. 

It  was  instinct  rather  than  knowledge  which  made  the 
little  wife  shiver  and  draw  back  a  trifle  from  the  beautiful 
woman  on  whose  brows  so  heavy  a  shadow  now  lay.  Had 
she  known  of  the  adventure  of  Joseph  and  Bathsheba  in 
the  burning  house,  she  could  not  have  shown  a  more  sudden 
repulsion. 

Bathsheba  felt  it  to  the  very  core  of  her  heart,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  unjust.  She  flushed  angrily,  in  spite  of  a 
violent  effort  at  self-control,  and  the  greeting  between  the 
two  was  not  cordial.  Malcha  held  out  her  hand,  neverthe 
less,  and  Bathsheba  took  it,  saying,  — 


280  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

"We  hurried  here,  hoping  to  be  first  with  the  "good 
news,  but  some  one  was  before  us." 

"You  mean  about  my  husband  ?  "  said  Malcha,  smiling 
faintly  through  her  tears  ;  and  Bathsheba  was  surprised  to 
note  that  the  last  word  gave  her  a  sudden  start,  and  made 
her  heart  beat  more  rapidly  than  usual. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  hope  that  your  troubles  are  over  now,  and 
that  he  will  be  able  to  work  for  himself,  after  all  the  pains 
he  has  taken  for  others." 

Both  women  were  speaking  the  familiar  jargon,  with  its 
thees  and  thous,  and  the  passion  which  was  rising  within 
their  hearts  was  veiled  under  the  friendly  forms  of  speech. 

"  If  he  gets  out,  I  suppose  he  will  continue  his  work," 
said  Malcha  valiantly ;  <;  it  will  take  something  more  than 
prison  to  frighten  him." 

"  Oh,  you  quite  misunderstand  me  ! "  cried  Bathsheba ;  and 
at  this  point  David  interrupted  with  a  proverb :  "  Come, 
come,  'there  is  no  occasion  to  light  the  lamp  at  noontide  ;' 
nor  to  borrow  trouble  to-night  about  Joseph's  course  to 
morrow.  The  great  thing  is  to  be  ready  for  the  unex 
pected,  and  to  get  some  sleep  to-night,  so  that  if  Joseph 
needs  us  in  the  morning  he  can  have  our  services." 

Bathsheba  presently  excused  herself,  and  went  away  ; 
and  after  David  had  had  a  long  talk  with  Manasseh  and 
Shiphrah,  urging  then  to  join  in  the  project  of  the  colony, 
he  also  departed,  leaving  them  to  console  and  encourage 
Malcha. 

On  the  way  down  the  street  he  saw  two  cloakmakers 
gesticulating  furiously,  and  heard  one  say  to  the  other, — 

"They  say  that  Freier  was  at  his  office  late  to-night,  and 
one  of  his  old  employes — one  of  the  old  men  who  had 
been  half  killed  with  overwork  in  a  sweater's  shop  —  went 
in  and  said,  'Joseph  will  be  out  to-morrow,  eh,  Freier?' 
and  laughed.  Then  Freier  ran  after  him,  and  threw  his 


THE  SWEATERS'  TRIUMPH  281 

cigar  at  him,  and  kicked  him,  and  called  him  all  sovts  of 
names,  and  said,  '  Joseph  will  be  a  jail-bird  for  many  a 
long  day  yet !  '  Now,  if  Baumeister  is  the  criminal,  what 
does  that  mean  ?  " 

What,  indeed,  did  it  mean  ?  David  walked  home  musing 
on  what  he  had  heard,  and  dark  with  foreboding  of  the 
morrow. 

He  thought  he  knew  what  it  meant  at  noon  next  day. 
Baumeister,  trembling  and  abject,  and  seeming  under  the 
influence  of  some  strange  preoccupation,  repeated  before 
a  magistrate  the  confession  which  he  had  made  to  the 
Wonder-Rabbi,  and  was  installed  in  prison,  while  Joseph's 
innocence  was  recognized. 

ISTot  one  word  did  Baumeister  say  about  meeting  Joseph 
inside  the  burning  house ;  not  one  word  concerning  Bath- 
sheba's  presence  there.  He  said  that  his  wife  had  come 
from  Russia  without  his  consent ;  that  he  could  not  care 
for  her  and  attend  to  his  "  great  work  "  at  the  same  time  ; 
and  that  when  she  had  hunted  him  down  he  had  conceived 
the  idea  of  getting  her  burned  in  Simon's  house,  and  had 
started  a  fire  in  the  shop  on  the  ground-floor,  where  the  ex 
plosives  were  kept,  hoping  that  the  conflagration  might  be 
ascribed  to  an  accident  there. 

His  repentance  was  too  lachrymose  to  be  sincere,  and 
there  was  a  black  look  on  his  face  when  he  spoke  of  Joseph 
which  showed  deep  hatred. 

Shortly  after  he  was  locked  up  he  fell  into  a  deep  stupor, 
which  lasted  for  hours,  and  which  his  guardians  at  first 
attributed  to  some  drug.  When  he  was  aroused  out  of  it 
he  talked  glibly,  but  without  coherence.  "  This  is  a  lunatic 
they  have  given  us  to  keep,"  said  one  of  the  two  men  who 
examined  him. 

It  was  said  that  Joseph  was  to  be  liberated  in  the  after- 


282  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

noon  of  that  day,  and  there  was  a  great  crowd  waiting  to 
receive  him  within  the  gloomy  walls  of  the  "Tombs."  Mai- 
cha,  Zipporah,  David,  and  Ben  Zion  stood  anxiously  await 
ing  the  appearance  of  their  hero. 

At  last  he  came  forth,  hollow-eyed  and  tremulous ;  and 
his  smile  when  Malcha  laid  her  head  for  a  moment  on  his 
breast  was  wan  and  feeble.  But  the  joy  of  regained  free 
dom  was  gradually  beginning  to  appear  in  his  eyes,  when 
suddenly  Malcha  and  Zipporah  were  hustled  to  one  side, 
and  Joseph  found  himself  again  arrested,  this  time  at  the 
suits  of  various  manufacturers,  for  "extortion." 

When  this  misfortune  was  explained  to  Malcha,  she 
fainted,  and  lay  like  one  dead  in  the  prison,  and  finally  had 
to  be  borne  away,  followed  by  the  wailing  Zipporah.  and 
by  a  screaming  and  gesticulating  mob  of  women,  who  flour 
ished  their  lean  arms,  and  threatened  to  tear  down  the 
"  Tombs  "  unless  Joseph  were  soon  released. 

Joseph  stood  dry-eyed  and  almost  smiling  under  the 
stroke.  He  was  beginning  to  understand  the  depths  of  the 
hatred  which  he  had  aroused,  and  to  feel  that  there  was 
much  suffering  before  him. 

Ashy  pale  at  the  lips,  and  with  his  clear,  frank  eyes  di 
lated  by  the  excitement,  he  was  marched  back  to  his  cell 
to  await  events. 

Before  leaving  him,  David  said  cheeringly,  "Pooh!  this 
is  nothing !  The  bail  will  be  small,  and  I  will  have  you 
out  and  on  the  way  to  my  new  colony  in  a  day  or  two." 

So  he  ran  off  to  see  about  giving  bail. 

Great  was  his  consternation  when  he  discovered,  after 
forty-eight  hours  of  wearisome  labor,  that  no  sums  which 
he  or  his  friends  could  assemble  together  would  procure 
Joseph's  deliverance.  The  bail  was  not  only  placed  out 
rageously  high,  but  bondsman  after  bondsman  whom  he 
brought  up  was  rejected,  and  emissaries  from  the  prose- 


THE  SWEATERS'  TUIUMPH  283 

cutors  kept  a  close  watch  upon  his  movements,  and  seemed 
to  possess  means  for  outwitting  him  at  every  turn. 

The  poverty-stricken  Union  made  desperate  efforts  to  get 
the  requisite  sureties,  and  also  sent  emissaries  to  the  law 
yers  to  learn  what  was  the  basis  for  the  charge  of  "  ex 
tortion  "  brought  against  the  long-suffering  and  unselfish 
Joseph. 

When  they  at  last  discovered  that  the  charge  of  "  extor 
tion"  rested  largely  on  the  fact  that  Joseph,  for  his 
Union,  had  accepted  the  check  of  Freier  and  Monach  for 
the  one  hundred  dollars,  a  practice  general  among  the  Ger 
man  Unions,  the  idea  being  to  make  the  "  boss  "  sorry  that, 
by  a  "  lock-out,"  he  has  caused  his  employes  a  vast  amount 
of  misery,  they  laughed  the  stupid  accusation  to  scorn. 
Joseph,  they  explained,  had  done  what  the  Union  instructed 
him  to  do.  He  had  taken  the  check  for  one  hundred  dol 
lars,  and,  in  company  with  other  members  of  the  Union, 
had  gone  to  a  bank  and  cashed  it,  after  which  he  had  placed 
the  money  in  the  treasury  of  the  Union,  not  even  accepting 
a  penny  for  himself. 

"  But,"  said  the  sapient  lawyers,  "  was. not  the  fatal  check 
made  out  to  his  order  ?  "  It  was.  "  Very  well,  then  he  must 
bide  where  he  is,  and  stand  trial  for  extortion  ;"  nor  could  so 
dangerous  a  personage,  who  very  likely  had  repeated  the 
same  manoeuvre  with  a  dozen  or  perhaps  a  hundred  manu 
facturers,  be  allowed  to  go  at  large  until  after  his  trial, 
unless  he  could  summon  most  formidable  sureties. 

The  days  flowed  solemnly  and  slowly  away,  with  that 
supreme  disregard  for  our  unhappiness  which  becomes  so 
striking  to  those  who  feel  the  hand  of  misfortune.  When 
we  are  happy,  all  nature  seems  to  rejoice  with  us.  When  we 
are  in  trouble,  she  appears  calmly  indifferent. 

Malcha,  white  and  frightened,  came  and  went  in  the 
gloomy  prison,  bringing  Joseph  news  and  decent  food,  and 


284  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

sometimes  a  little  money  which  some  admirer  had  left  for 
him. 

One  day  she  brought  forty  dollars,  wrapped  in  a  hand 
kerchief,  and  told  him  that  it  had  been  left  for  him  by  a 
beneficent  society  which  had  approved  of  his  moderate 
course  during  the  lock-out. 

Joseph  suddenly  became  thoughtful.  Here  was  money 
which  he  could  accept  without  dishonor.  He  called  to 
David,  who  had  come  in  with  Malcha  and  Miryam,  and  was 
now  standing  a  little  apart  from  them,  with  the  child-woman 
at  his  side. 

<;Take  Malcha  and  Zipporah  with  you  to  the  colony, 
David,"  lie  said.  "  I  foresee  that  my  stay  here  will  be  long  ; 
perhaps,  who  knows  ?  I  may  be  convicted." 

"  But  you  will  appeal,"  said  David,  who  had  been  study 
ing  American  law  forms  with  great  care. 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  responded  Joseph  impatiently, 
gripping  the  bars  with  his  long,  slender  fingers ;  "  but  it  will 
all  take  time.  And  while  I  am  packed  away  here,  they 
would  starve  or  go  into  the  sweaters'  hells  to  look  for  bread. 
For  the  sweaters  will  triumph  now,  ha!  ha!  Have  they 
not  laid  me  by  the  heels  ?  Take  Malcha  and  the  child  with 
you  and  go,  David." 

And  so  it  was  agreed.  A  few  days  later  the  initial  trip 
to  the  colony  was  made,  and  David's  theatre  had  to  conduct 
itself  as  best  it  could  for  a  week,  while  the  clever  manager 
installed  the  melancholy  Malcha  and  her  little  one,  with 
Miiyam,  in  an  old  farmhouse  on  the  ''abandoned  farms" 
which  he  had  bought  for  a  song,  in  the  Connecticut  hills. 

Miryam  was  pale  and  weak  when  she  first  reached  the 
colony,  but  in  a  few  days  her  strength  returned,  although 
her  color  seemed  to  have  fled  forever. 

From  time  to  time  she  would  suddenly  raise  her  hand  to 
her  heart,  as  if  she  felt  a  sudden  spasm  of  pain  there. 


THE  SWEATEES'  TRIUMPH  285 

But  she  appeared  to  have  regained  her  spirits  ;  and  while 
she  labored  with  Malcha  at  the  making  of  cheap  porte- 
monuaies,  suspenders,  combs,  and  other  simple  articles 
which  the  colonists  were  trying  to  produce  in  large  quanti 
ties,  she  sang  the  quaint  old  religious  songs  from  "Ezra" 
and  "Judith  and  Holofernus,"  and  "Queen  Alexandria/'' 
from  "  Esther,"  and  from  a  dozen  other  historical  dramas  of 
David's  repertory. 

David  plied  back  and  forth  between  the  colony  and  New 
York,  and  often  brought  news  of  Joseph,  who,  stern  philoso 
pher  in  his  prison,  was  endeavoring  to  dissuade  the  cloak- 
makers  from  clubbing  together  their  little  earnings  to  defend 
him. 

One  sorrow  lay  heavily  on  David's  heart.  He  could  not 
prevail  on  old  Manasseh  and  Shiphrah  to  accompany  him 
to  the  colony.  David's  heart  still  yearned  toward  the  once 
erring,  but  now  repentant,  Shiphrah ;  and  he  was  determined 
to  save  her  before  she  fell  back  into  the  hell  of  misery  out 
of  which  she  had  been  raised  by  'Joseph's  bravery. 

The  month  of  August  had  worn  itself  out  with  sullen 
heat,  and  September  had  brought  a  little  comfort  with  a 
cool  dash  of  rain,  when  David,  who  had  hastened  down 
from  his  colony  to  respond  to  some  of  the  innumerable 
demands  made  upon  him  by  the  lawyers  conducting 
Joseph's  case,  found  an  hour  at  his  disposition  before 
returning  to  the  train. 

"  I  will  spend  it,"  he  said,  "  in  trying  once  more  to  per 
suade  Manasseh  and  his  daughter  to  join  us." 

But  when  he  reached  the  cellar  where  Manasseh  and 
Shiphrah  made  their  humble  abode,  he  found  that  they  had 
gone  away.  An  ancient  dame  who  sold  stale  fish  hard  by 
thought  that  Manasseh  had  taken  a  cellar  down  near  the 
river.  "Better  inquire  of  the  United  Hebrew  Charities. 


286  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

And  the  girl  —  she  had  gone  back  to  work  at  her  trade,  and 
no  one  had  seen  her  for  a  week." 

A  thrill  of  horror  passed  through  David's  breast.  Had 
Shiphrah  been  caught  once  more  in  the  sweaters'  web  ? 

Every  day  he  heard  tales  of  the  audacity  of  these  cunning 
sweaters  —  the  vampires  who  sucked  the  blood  of  the  poor 
exile.  Although  the  cloakmakers  threatened  to  mob  them, 
they  were  starting  up  again  in  a  hundred  places  on  the 
East  Side. 

The  manufacturers  encouraged  them,  pointing  to  the 
plight  of  Joseph  as  an  indication  that  they  need  have  no 
more  fear. 

Freier  pretended  that  he  was  giving  strict  adherence  to 
the  compact  which  he  had  made  with  Joseph.  But  he  was 
aiding  more  men  to  build  up  sweating-shops,  and  inventing 
new  infamies  for  the  persecution  and  plunder  of  the  poor 
laboring  men  and  women. 

ITe  told  the  fresh  contractors,  who  timidly  said  "  that 
they  had  heard  that  pushing  the  laborer  was  dangerous,*' 
how  the  law  could  be  violated  with  impunity  by  pretending 
to  make  concessions,  whenever  public  opinion  or  sentiment 
was  aroused,  and  inspection,  even  of  the  very  partial  and 
incomplete  nature  thus  far  essayed  in  New  York,  was 
imminent.  "And  then,"  he  said,  "you  can  do  your  work 
on  the  quiet.  Who  will  think  of  looking  for  a  contractor 
[i.e.  a  sweater]  in  some  out-of-the-way  street  ?  Besides, 
your  workmen  and  workwomen  can  be  brought  directly 
from  the  steamers  to  the  workshops,  and  allowed  to  go  out 
only  after  dark.  A  little  sweating  in  New  York  will  take 
the  country  roughness  out  of  them." 

Thus  spoke  Freier,  as  vile  a  slave-driver  as  ever  lived, 
practising  his  infamous  calling  in  the  very  teeth  of  the 
opposition  of  organized  labor,  and  trampling  down  even 
such  steadfast  leaders  as  Joseph. 


THE  SWEATERS'  TRIUMPH  287 

David  heard  of  all  this,  and  his  heart  sank  when  he 
pictured  Shiphrah  as  once  more  in  the  hands  of  the  villains. 
He  dreaded  Malcha's  displeasure  each  time  that  he  failed 
to  bring  Shiphrah  home. 

Now,  it  happened  that  the  poor  girl  had  really  gone  back 
to  the  very  sweater  from  whose  clutches  Joseph  had  rescued 
her.  This  miscreant  had  set  up  in  a  new  quarter  under 
another  name,  and  surreptitiously  worked  for  Freier,  wind 
ing  his  tentacles  about  his  old  victims  whenever  he  could. 

One  day  the  great  Freier  paid  a  sly  visit  to  the  shop,  and 
there  Shiphrah  was  pointed  out  to  him  as  Joseph's  friend. 

The  sweater  laughed  coarsely  in  the  girl's  face  as  he  said 
this,  and  placed  his  big  hand  familiarly  on  her  shoulder. 

"Oh,  this  is  the  wench,  is  it  ?"  said  Freier,  approaching, 
and  puffing  a  cloud  of  smoke  from  his  huge  black  cigar  in 
her  face.  "  I  say,  she  ought  to  be  in  jail  along  with  Joseph, 
and  we'll  have  her  there  yet  if  she  says  much,  hey  ?" 

The  maddened  girl  struck  Freier  in  the  face,  and  then 
burst  into  tears. 

With  an  oath  he  raised  his  hand,  and  returned  the  blow, 
like  the  coward  that  he  was,  and  Shiphrah  fell,  with  the 
blood  gushing  from  her  nostrils. 

"Ah,  pick  her  up,  some  of  you,"  said  Freier,  retiring 
down  the  stairs,  followed  by  the  contractor.  And  when  he 
was  in  the  street  he  said,  — 

"  They  ain't  people,  them  creatures  up  there,  you  know. 
They're  only  cattle." 

But  he  felt  uneasy  when  he  thought  of  what  might 
happen  if  Joseph  were  to  be  acquitted. 


288  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE    WHITE    FAST 

OLD  Manasseh  sat  on  a  broken  bench  in  the  crowded 
synagogue,  listening  rapturously  to  the  wild  recitative  of 
the  chazan,  which  had  been  kept  up  for  hours,  without 
seeming  to  weary  the  robust  voice  of  the  intoner,  or  the 
patience  of  the  pious  listeners. 

The  long  room,  on  the  second  floor  of  what  had  once  been 
a  tenement  house  in  Ludlow  Street,  was  packed  with  the 
faithful,  who  were  celebrating  the  "  White  Fast,"  Yora 
Kippur,  the  Day  of  Atonement,  which  comes  ten  days  after 
Rash  Hashshanah,  the  New  Year,  and  is  a  recognition  of 
God's  grace  in  forgiving  the  transgressions  of  weak  human 
creatures. 

On  each  of  the  five  floors  of  this  narrow,  ill-contrived 
firetrap  of  a  tenement,  a  synagogue  for  a  congregation  of 
poor  cloakmakers  had  been  installed.  The  worshippers  in 
Manasseh's  company  could  hear  the  tramping  and  shuffling 
of  feet  above  them,  and  the  shrill  notes  of  the  chazan's 
voice,  rivalling  those  of  their  own  ministrant. 

In  the  whole  building  ten  or  twelve  hundred  of  the  refu 
gees  had  been  gathered  since  dawn.  The  September  day 
was  now  drawing  to  a  close,  but  none  of  the  people  showed 
any  inclination  to  go  away. 

Now  and  then  a  child  stole  in  with  a  whispered  message 
to  the  father  or  grandfather  —  message  which  provoked  a 


THE    WHITE   FAST  289 

faint  smile,  because  it  was  understood  to  be  a  command  to 
come  home  to  supper,  and  not  to  imperil  health  by  too  long 
a  fast.  But  generally  the  response  was  a  negative  shake  of 
the  head  and  a  mystical  closing  of  the  eyes,  which  signi 
fied  a  stronger  inclination  to  commune  with  the  sacred  mys 
teries  than  to  attack  the  supper  of  dried  fish,  pickles,  and 
coarse  bread. 

Manasseh's  soul  swam  in  seas  of  delight.  He  was  pene 
trated  with  a  vague  consciousness  that  on  these  new  shores 
to  which  he  had  come  there  was  absolute  freedom  of  wor 
ship  ;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  every  minutest  ceremonial 
of  this  day  of  days  had  a  sweeter  savor  for  him  than  ever 
before. 

He  mused  on  the  three  books  of  Rabbi  Jochanon  —  those 
supreme  registers  of  human  action,  and  wondered  in  which 
the  names  of  his  neighbors  had  "been  inscribed.  Had  the 
long  period  of  penitential  days  between  Rash  Hashshanah 
and  Yom  Kippur  been  duly  improved  by  him  ? 

He  reviewed  each  one  of  his  actions  slowly  and  minutely, 
and  shook  his  head,  as  if  he  could  not  decide  for  himself. 
Then  he  murmured  a  response  or  two  to  the  musical  cries 
of  the  chazan,  and  finally  his  head  fell  forward  on  his  breast. 

The  fatigue  of  the  long  day's  fast  had  worn  old  Manas 
seh's  strength  quite  out. 

The  room  was  filled  with  rude  benches,  on  which  the 
young  and  old  men  sat  together,  dressed  in  their  best 
clothes,  and  wearing  their  hats.  At  the  end  next  the  street 
was  an  altar,  before  which  burned  the  lamp  the  light  of 
which  is  kept  aglow  night  and  day. 

Here  stood  the  chazan,  looking  Oriental  in  his  skull-cap, 
and  with  the  striped  prayer-shawl  thrown  about  his  shoul 
ders ;  and  here  were  grouped  a  few  of  the  elders  —  those 
who  had  earlier  in  the  day  given  the  strange  and  impres 
sive  blessing  of  the  "  Cohanim." 


290  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

At  the  other  end,  in  an  enclosure  provided  with  windows, 
sat  the  women  and  girls  apart.  Through  the  yellow  cur 
tains  at  the  windows  of  this  enclosure  they  could  see  with 
out  being  seen. 

This  touch  of  Orientalism  added  to  the  picturesqueness 
of  the  gathering.  The  sound  of  the  feminine  voices  coming 
from  this  secluded  apartment  in  response  to  the  chazan  pro 
duces  a  singular  impression  on  the  spectator  who  sees  it 
for  the  first  time. 

Manasseli  was  old,  hungry,  and  scarcely  knew  from 
whence  his  next  crust  of  bread  was  to  come,  but  he  was 
happy.  In  this  blessed  period,  which  combined  the  memo 
rial  of  the  deliverance  of  Israel  from  Egypt  with  the  days 
of  Judgment  and  Forgiveness,  what  need  was  there  to 
worry  about  earthly  concerns  ? 

Yom  Kippur,  the  sacred  time  when  the  question  of  sin 
is  settled  for  the  year  between  God  and  man  — what  should 
interfere  with  it  ?  The  Lord  had  written  in  the  book,  but 
it  would  remain  unsigned  until  eleven  days  after  Yom 
Kippur.  This  thought  was  pleasant  to  Manasseh,  and  con 
soled  him  for  exile  and  suffering,  and  for  the  new  disap 
pearance  of  his  daughter. 

Shiphrah  had  not  left  him  to  the  pitiful  fate  of  the  help- 
less  aged  deserted  in  a  great  city.  Every  week  she  sent 
him  by  mail  a  tiny  sum  of  money ;  but  she  would  not  let 
him  know  where  she  was.  He  was  thinking  of  her  as  his 
head  drooped  and  his  eyes  closed,  and  he  finally  fell  into  a 
deep  sleep. 

.  As  evening  approached,  the  yellow  wax  candles  which 
had  been  set  up  in  memory  of  the  dead  gave  forth  a  sickly 
glare.  The  heated  atmosphere,  thick  with  dust  and  reeking 
with  effluvia,  became  almost  intolerable.  The  women,  as 
they  sat  on  the  rudely  cushioned  benches  in  their  little 
compartment,  fairly  gasped  for  breath. 


THE   WHITE   FAST  291 

The  cloakmakers  and  their  half-grown  boys  were  huddled 
together  in  a  submissive  attitude.  The  peace  of  faith  was 
upon  their  faces.  It  had  been  a  hard  struggle  for  many  of 
the  fathers  to  procure,  in  their  half-starved  and  moneyless 
condition,  the  "  scapegoat  chicken "  which  an  old  custom 
requires  them  to  kill  at  Yom  Kippur,  in  order  that  their 
sins  may  be  sworn  upon  it.  The  sacrifice  of  the  chicken  is 
held  to  wash  away  the  sins  which  one  may  have  committed 
during  the  year. 

It  was  a  strange  scene,  The  intensity  of  the  worship 
was  heightened  now  and  then  by  the  prostration  of  some 
suppliant  on  the  bare  boards  of  the  dirty  floor.  One  aged 
man  knocked  his  forehead  against  the  planking,  beat  his 
breast,  and  cried  aloud  for  help  from  God. 

He  called  out  one  by  one  the  list  of  his  sins,  most  of 
them  peccadilloes ;  and  although  there  was  something  highly 
ludicrous  in  the  circumstantial  character  of  his  catalogue, 
no  one  ventured  to  smile.  The  most  minute  details  of  the 
gathering  were  sanctified  by  The  Presence. 

The  synagogue  at  this  moment  was  something  more  than 
a  place  of  worship.  The  dear  familiar  ceremonies,  clung 
to  with  all  the  more  passionate  intensity  because  the  people 
had  been  persecuted  for  their  sake,  seemed  sweeter  and 
tenderer  than  ever  before,  because  they  took  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  the  refugees  back  to  their  old  homes,  and  brought 
up  remembrances  of  their  childhood  and  youth  to  men  who 
were  bent  and  broken  with  protracted  toil. 

While  the  weird  melodious  chant  of  the  chazan  resounded 
through  the  rude  chamber,  men  and  women  saw  arising 
before  their  closed  eyes  the  vision  of  the  cool  Russian  up 
lands,  with  their  wealth  of  wild-flowers  in  summer,  and 
their  covering  of  dry,  feathery  snow  in  winter. 

They  saw  the  mud-begrimed  villages,  with  their  wooden 
houses,  in  front  of  which  were  tiny  gardens,  or  piles  of 


292  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

wood  for  fuel,  or  great  wells  around  which  the  youths  and 
maidens  gathered  to  gossip  in  the  still,  mystical  evenings 
in  autumn,  when  the  last  warm  hazes  lay  along  the  level 
lands.  They  saw,  too,  the  oppressor  in  his  fur  cap  and  jack 
boots,  and  the  scurvy  knaves  who  drove  them  from  their 
homes,  and  divided  their  little  possessions  among  them 
selves. 

But  all  these  things  were  in  a  kind  of  golden  mist,  and 
caused  a  delicate  feeling  of  love  and  longing  for  the  old 
home  to  arise  in  the  heart,  and  to  bring  with  it  tears  of 
vain  regrets  for  the  vanished  fields  and  the  forever-de 
serted  graves  of  beloved  ancestors. 

Many  a  man  and  boy  among  the  worshippers  dreaded  the 
moment  when  it  should  be  announced  that  the  three  stars 
had  appeared  in  the  evening  sky,  and  when  they  would  be 
compelled  to  go  out  into  the  cold  world  with  its  sombre 
realities,  its  dreary  sojourn  in  the  bleak  lanes  of  a  foreign 
city,  its  climb  to  the  desolate  beds  in  the  back  kitchens  or 
the  stifling  workrooms  of  the  tenements,  and  its  terrible 
toil  during  all  the  daylight  hours,  and  far  into  the  night. 

The  door  creaked,  and  a  woman,  coarsely  dressed,  with  a 
veil  such  as  married  women  of  the  Orthodox  faith  wear, 
partially  concealing  her  face,  stole  in,  and  hastened  to  find 
a  dark  corner  in  the  woman's  compartment. 

It  was  Bathsheba. 

Fortunately  there  was  a  vacant  seat,  and  so  far  in  the 
shadow  that,  had  any  one  known  her,  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  recognize  her,  once  she  was  ensconced  in  it. 

She  had  been  studying  all  day  in  her  lonely  little  room, 
working  hard  upon  the  rdle  which  she  had  chosen  for  her 
debut  at  a  small  theatre  lately  sprung  up  as  a  rival  to 
David's  prosperous  institution. 

Her  husband  had  sent  her  money,  and  the  news  that  he 
approved  the  resolution  to  study  for  the  stage,  and  would 


THE   WHITE  FAST  293 

soon  be  at  home  to  help  her.  She  recognized  that  she  ought 
to  be  contented,  and  yet  she  was  overmastered  by  an  im 
mense  and  constantly  growing  discontent. 

In  her  soul  a  strange  revolution  had  been  in  progress  for 
some  time.  So  long  as  Joseph  had  been  free,  and  at  his 
work,  she  had  been  willing  to  admit  that  he  was  right,  and 
that  Baumeister  and  she  herself  were  wrong,  and  that  the 
"  party  of  force  "  was  a  ridiculous  illusion  and  a  dangerous 
snare. 

But  now  that  she  saw  Baumeister  fallen  by  the  way, 
and  recognized  that  he  had  never  been  anything  save  a 
vulgar  self-seeker;  now  that  she  saw  Joseph  in  prison, 
insulted  and  derided  by  his  enemies,  and  apparently  de 
serted  by  that  society,  the  interest  of  which  he  had  so 
valiantly  labored  to  protect  against  the  party  of  revenge 
and  disorder  —  a  kind  of  savage  protest  against  Society  in 
general  awoke  within  her,  and  blossomed  into  a  flower 
which  might  prove  a  poisoned  bloom. 

Besieged  by  emotions  which  she  could  not  define  to  her 
self,  tortured  by  Joseph's  indifference  to  her,  vexed  and 
worn  down  by  fatiguing  study  and  by  hopes  and  fears  for 
the  future,  Bathsheba  felt  the  need  of  the  old  familiar 
forms,  which  might  bring  consolation  to  her  spirit.  And 
so,  although  she  had  long  been  inattentive  to  her  spiritual 
duties,  and  had  been  sneered  at  by  some  of  the  Orthodox, 
who  knew  her  as  a  reformed  Jewess,  she  threw  on  her 
cloak  and  veil,  and  hastened  to  the  Ludlow  Street  nest  of 
synagogues,  which  happened  to  be  nearest  her  abode. 

For  a  few  minutes  she  sat  very  still,  feeling  a  little 
abashed,  and  wondering  how  much  of  her  history  one  or 
two  women  who  eyed  her  curiously  must  know.  But  pres 
ently  she  discovered  that  they  did  not  recognize  her  as  one 
whom  they  had  ever  seen  before ;  and  she  listened  to  the 
musical  wail  of  the  chazan,  and  to  the  muffled  responses  of 


294  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

the  men,  with  a  sense  of  delight  at  which  she  was  surprised. 
She  fell  to  thinking  of  the  luxurious  home  of  her  child 
hood,  and  a  deep  wrinkle  appeared  between  her  brows,  and 
for  a  moment  gave  a  sinister  and  forbidding  character  to 
her  face.  Then  it  disappeared,  and  her  face  resumed  its 
usual  serene  and  impassive  beauty. 

Presently  there  was  a  vacant  place  next  the  little  line  of 
windows  through  which  the  occupants  of  the  woman's 
section  could  see  what  was  going  on  among  the  men. 

Bathsheba  went  over  to  it,  and  by  kneeling  on  the  low 
divan,  and  looking  through  a  broken  pane  of  glass,  she  had 
a  very  good  view  of  the  singular  proceedings. 

A  tall,  gaunt  figure,  arrayed  in  a  kind  of  white  robe, 
which  gave  it  the  look,  in  the  dim  light,  of  a  colossal 
spectre,  was  moving  forward  timidly,  as  if  a  little  doubtful 
of  the  reception  in  store  for  it.  But  the  men  and  boys 
made  way  slowly  for  it,  as  if  recognizing  that  it  needed 
more  room  than  they  did,  and  that  it  was  about  to  engage 
in  some  important  ceremonial. 

At  last  the  figure  had  room  enough  in  front  of  it. 
Stretching  out  long  arms  and  making  wild  gestures  in 
dicative  of  despair,  it  began  slowly  to  sink  on  bended 
knees,  all  the  time  muttering  to  itself  something  which 
sounded  like  a  confession  of  sin. 

One  family  group,  seated  close  to  this  singular  penitent, 
seemed  to  overhear  what  it  said,  and  arising  suddenly,  with 
alarmed  and  indignant  looks,  left  the  synagogue  without  a 
word. 

Now  the  figure  clasped  its  hands,  and,  bending  forward, 
knocked  its  head  violently  against  the  floor,  still  muttering, 
but  in  a  lower  tone  than  before.  Evidently  it  had  some 
grievous  sin  upon  its  conscience,  for  over  and  over  it  re 
peated  this  contrite  ceremony,  never  once  raising  its  eyes 
to  look  at  one  of  its  neighbors. 


THE    WHITE    FAST  295 

There  was  something  indefinably  terrible  in  this  figure, 
robed  in  garments  which  looked  like  grave-clothes,  and 
bowed  down  in  the  anguish  of  supplication  on  the  evening 
of  this  "  settling-day  "  with  God. 

Bathsheba  could  not  take  her  eyes  off  the  figure.  It  fas 
cinated  and  frightened  her.  When  one  of  the  yellow 
tapers,  burning  in  memory  of  the  dead,  cast  a  sickly  glow 
upon  the  white  robes,  as  the  gaunt  figure  arose,  she  uttered 
a  stifled  cry,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  as  she  had 
done  when,  a  timid  girl,  she  had  been  alarmed  by  some 
sudden  sound. 

Boys  and  men  now  began  leaving  in  large  numbers.  The 
arrival  of  this,  and  one  or  two  other  apparitions  like  it,  was 
a  sign  that  the  worship  of  the  day  was  nearly  over  ;  for  the 
desperate  sinners  who  came  to  stand  face  to  face  with  God 
in  the  synagogue,  and  to  pour  out  in  his  holy  place  the  con 
fession  of  their  guilt,  usually  chose  the  closing  hours  of  the 
service,  that  they  might  be  the  less  disturbed. 

As  the  congregation  thinned  out  the  tall  white  figure 
became  more  demonstrative.  It  smote  its  breast  with  ter 
rific  force ;  it  tossed  its  arms  on  high,  and  cried  aloud  the 
names  of  persons  whom  it  had  wronged.  Bathsheba  thought 
that  she  recognized  one  or  two  names  spoken ;  but  perhaps 
that  was  a  mistake.  If  the  figure  would  but  turn  ! 

At  that  moment  it  did  turn,  as  if  in  obedience  to  her 
wish,  and  to  her  astonishment  she  saw  the  well-known  fea 
tures  of  a  notorious  "  sweater,"  one  of  the  meanest  of  the 
contractors  who  had  been  guilty  of  robbing  the  helpless 
poor  —  a  man  whose  name  was  execrated  by  every  one  who 
had  ever  worked  for  him. 

How  came  he  there  ?  Was  he,  then,  a  member  of  the 
synagogue  ?  And  could  he  come  there  among  the  very 
people  whom  he  despoiled,  and  publicly  confess  to  God  his 
sins  against  them,  and  get  them  all  marked  off  for  the  past 


296  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

year,  and  a  new  set  of  "soul  books"  opened  with  no  more 
difficulty  than  this  ? 

The  thought  seemed  so  absurd  that  it  brought  a  contempt 
uous  smile  to  Bathsjieba's  lips,  and  a  wild  resolve  instantly 
into  her  breast. 

The  sweater  at  his  prayers  !  The  sweater  imploring  par 
don  in  his  grave-clothes  on  the  day  of  the  White  Fast! 
Surely  it  was  a  cruel  mockery  ! 

Scarcely  knowing  whither  she  was  going,  Bathsheba 
leaped  from  the  divan,  and  ran  out  into  the  men's  section. 
Such  an  unheard-of  act,  at  so  sacred  a  moment,  instantly 
provoked  a  profound  commotion.  Men  arose,  pointing  at 
her;  boys  laughed  confusedly,  and  the  chazan  turned  to 
see  what  was  the  matter. 

The  tall  figure  scrambled  to  its  feet,  and  stood  swaying 
clumsily,  looking  so  unearthly  that  the  men  and  boys 
shrank  away  from  it. 

Bathsheba  pointed  directly  at  the  sweater,  and  cried  in  a 
high,  piercing  voice,  which  rang  like  the  blare  of  a  silver 
trumpet:  — 

"  The  oppressor  of  the  poor  and  helpless  in  the  congre 
gation  of  the  Lord !  The  sweater  in  tli»e  synagogue,  to  in 
sult  us  with  the  catalogue  of  his  sins  against  us  !  Out  witli 
him  !  Let  him  be  spat  upon  and  trampled  in  the  dust ! 
Away  with  him  !  " 

Her  voice  died  away  into  a  wail,  which  had  an  electrical 
effect  on  the  cloakmakers  present.  They  rushed  forward ; 
and,  although  not  many  of  them  recognized  the  sweater, 
who  had  his  den  in  an  obscure  street,  and  masked  his  occu 
pation  under  another  business  carried  on  in  the  same  build 
ing,  this  startling  feminine  accusation  was  enough  to  make 
them  raise  their  hands  to  strike  him. 

"  It  is  such  villains  as  this  man  —  this  robber  of  the  poor 
who  insults  us  in  our  sacred  worship  —  such  men  as  these 


THE   WHITE   FAST  297 

who  have  put  your  leader  in  prison,  and  who  are  driving 
you  to  the  slaughter  again.  Down  with  the  sweater  !  " 

Hushing  forward,  she  shook  her  closed  hand  in  the 
sweater's  face.  He  shrank  back  in  terror,  and,  finding  him 
self  surrounded  by  the  bent,  broken,  and  prematurely  aged 
workmen,  whom  he  might  presume  to  be  his  natural  ene 
mies,  he  uttered  a  hoarse  roar,  like  that  of  a  mad  bull  shut 
into  an  enclosure. 

Then  all  at  once  rallying  his  courage,  he  swept  back  the 
aggressors,  and  called  on  the  chazan  to  protect  him.  His 
face  became  as  pale  as  his  prayer-clothes,  and  he  fully 
believed  that  his  last  moment  had  come. 

The  chazan,  who  was  an  old  man,  could  not  see  well,  and 
came  forward  with  his  hands  outstretched,  as  if  imploring 
peace.  The  men  made  way  for  him ;  and,  as  he  complained 
of  the  darkness,  one  of  them  took  a  newspaper  from  his 
pocket,  twisted  it  into  an  improvised  torch,  set  it  on  fire  at 
a  candle,  and  held  it  above  his  head. 

The  sweater  cowered  at  the  chazan's  feet,  begging  him  to 
save  his  life,  and  to  re-establish  order. 

"  A  sweater  !  A  sweater ! "  cried  Bathsheba.  "  His 
presence  denies  the  congregation  of  the  Lord !  Drive  him 
out !  " 

" Peace,  peace  !  my  children!"  said  the  old  chazan,  curi 
ously  scanning  the  sweater's  features  by  the  light  of  the 
burning  paper.  "  God  is  ready  at  all  times  to  acknowledge 
true  penitence ;  and  of  repentance  there  are  seven  degrees." 

"  True  !  "  cried  Bathsheba,  advancing,  and  looking  like  an 
ins'pired  prophetess;  "but  listen!  This,  too,  is  from  the 
Talmud:  ' God  is  merciful,  and  pardons  the  sins  of  man 
against  himself;  but  he  who  has  wronged  his  neighbor  must 
gain  that  neighbor's  forgiveness  before  he  can  claim  the 
mercy  of  the  Lord  ! ' ' 

The  chazan  stood  confused.     This  strange  woman  who 


298  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

interrupted  the  service  and  quoted  the  Talmud  astonished 
and  shocked  him. 

A  cry  of  approval  of  Bathsheba's  last  words  went  up  from 
the  cloakmakers.  "  Ay  ! "  cried  one,  "  ask  the  sweater  if  he 
has  been  forgiven  by  all  the  poor  people  that  he  has  just 
accused  himself  of  sinning  against !  " 

The  sweater  tried  to  pull  off  his  white  robe,  and  to  escape. 
And  now  the  improvised  torch,  the  newspaper,  went  out, 
leaving  an  odor  of  acrid  smoke,  of  which  a  cloud  arose  and 
hovered  over  the  assembly  densely  packed  in  the  front  part 
of  the  room. 

A  timid  voice  in  the  woman's  section  was  heard  saying, 
"  Fire  !  What's  burning  ?  I  am  not  going  to  stay  here.  I 
smell  fire !" 

In  vain  did  Bathsheba,  who  paled  with  sudden  intuition 
of  the  danger,  spring  backward  and  explain  to  the  women 
that  the  odor  came  from  a  paper  which  had  been  trampled 
underfoot,  and  that  there  was  no  flame  visible.  The  alarm 
was  taken,  and  there  was  a  mad  rush  for  the  narrow  door, 
the  unique  means  of  exit. 

Six  brawny  women  rushed  to  the  door,  shrieking,  "Fire  !  " 
and,  forgetting  that  it  opened  inward,  threw  their  united 
strength  against  it,  and,  splintering  the  panels  and  carrying 
one  hinge  away,  crawled  out,  dazed  and  hysterical. 

With  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  urging  her  on, 
Bathsheba  sprang  after  them,  and,  after  getting  an  ugly 
g.'ish  in  the  wrist,  she  reached  the  outer  landing.  There 
she  felt  herself  pounced  upon  and  hurled  along  by  a  mad 
dened  throng  escaping  from  the  floor  above ;  and,  bruised, 
with  her  clothing  torn  and  mined,  and  her  senses  reeling  in 
dismay,  she  was  pushed  into  the  street,  and  dragged  off  by 
strong  arms.  And  then  she  fainted. 

In  less  than  a  minute  the  panic  had  become  general. 
The  worshippers  escaping  from  the  second  floor  fell  head- 


THE   WHITE  FAST  299 

long  under  the  feet  of  hundreds,  leaping,  crawling,  fighting, 
on  the  way  down  from  the  synagogues  in  the  upper  stories, 
in  each  of  which  the  alarm  had  been  given  by  shouts  of 
"  Fire  ! "  echoed  from  mouth  to  mouth. 

In  the  dark  stairway,  with  their  steep,  narrow  stairs,  men. 
and  women  and  children  were  wedged  so  tightly  that  they 
could  scarcely  breathe.    They  fought  with  each  other.   The 
strong  trampled  down  the  weak;  the  brutal  jumped  upon 
the  heads  of  their  fellows,  and  tried  to  walk  on  them. 

The  sweater  and  the  poor  chazaii  were  pushed  down  the 
stairs  together,  just  after  Bathsheba's  escape,  and  many  of 
the  blows  aimed  at  the  sweater  were  received  by  the  ven 
erable  ministrant,  who  was  in  a  half-dead  condition  when 
finally  dragged  out.  The  sweater  avenged  himself  as  best 
he  could  by  savagely  trampling  on  the  faces  of  one  or  two 
of  the  cloakmakers,  as  he  with  almost  superhuman  strength 
got  free  of  the  press,  with  no  worse  accident  than  a  dislo 
cated  shoulder.  The  groaning  and  imploring,  the  yells  and 
imprecations,  the  wailings  and  snarlings,  were  like  those 
which  arise  from  a  battle-field.  And  still  the  terrible  push 
ing  of  the  dense  black  masses  corning  down  from  above 
crushed  out  the  breath  and  life  of  those  weaker  ones  who, 
like  sheep  in  an  overcrowded  pen,  had  fallen  beneath  the 
impetuous  rush  of  the  stronger. 

Among  the  feeble  ones  who  had  been  thrown,  and  now 
lay  two  deep,  on  the  last  flight  of  stairs  leading  to  the 
street,  was  old  Manasseh. 

Hastily  awakened  from  his  slumber  by  his  neighbor  on 
the  bench,  he  had  succeeded  in  getting  through  the  door, 
but  had  speedily  been  thrown  off  his  feet,  and  so  trodden 
on,  that  his  faint  hold  on  life  was  almost  loosened  forever. 

He  was  dimly  conscious  that  a  great  disaster  had  occurred, 
but  his  senile  imagination  was  excited  by  the  belief  that  he 
had  been  selected  for  a  species  of  martyrdom.  When  the 


300  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

cruel  feet  crushed  in  his  ribs  and  tortured  his  chest,  a  smile 
'of  angelic  sweetness  lighted  up  his  severe  but  patient  face. 
He  could  not  move  his  body,  but  he  turned  his  eyes  heaven 
ward,  and  then  eastward  to  the  land  of  his  fathers  and  his 
fathers'  God. 

He  seemed  to  see  his  daughter  Shiphrah,  radiant  as  she 
had  been  in  her  innocent  youth,  before  she  had  lost  hope 
in  the  sweaters'  hell,  coming  swiftly  toward  him  on  a 
starlight  Friday  evening,  to  announce  that  everything  was 
ready  for  the  wonted  ceremonial.  And  who  was  that 
behind  her  ?  Was  it  the  image  of  his  dead  wife  ? 

He  tried  to  rise,  but  the  effort  seemed  to  take  all  his 
life  from  him.  The  violent  shock  of  bodies  falling  upon 
him  caused  fires  to  dance  in  his  eyes.  Then  they  died  out 
with  strange  suddenness.  A  cool  calm  was  stealing  over 
him. 

Manasseh  shaped  his  aged  lips  to  say  the  sublime  words 
which  he  had  often  said  over  a  dying  friend  :  — 

"  SlIEMA,  YISRAEL,  ADONAI,  ELOHENU  ADONAI  ECHAD  !  " 

And  with  this  declaration  of  belief  in  the  divine  unity 
comforting  his  soul,  the  patriarch  passed  from  the  land  of 
exile,  swiftly  and  undismayed,  into  the  Great  Unknown. 


JOSEPH   COMES    FORTH  301 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

JOSEPH    COMES    FORTH 

JOSEPH  read,  in  the  newspaper  brought  to  him  in  his 
prison,  of  this  dreadful  panic,  which  resulted  in  the  loss  of 
a  dozen  lives,  and  the  maiming  of  two-score  poor  creatures. 

But  it  was  not  until  Ben  Zion  arrived,  with  the  radiance 
of  his  enthusiasm  seeming  to  communicate  an  unusually 
fiery  glow  to  his  shock  of  red  hair,  that  he  heard  the  story 
of  Bathsheba  and  the  sweater.  The  journals  had  not 
secured  this,  or  they  had  not  chosen  to  print  it. 

"  And  to  think,"  cried  Ben  Zion,  "  that  the  beast  got  away 
after  all,  while  so  many  worthy  men  were  trampled  to 
death  in  their  prayer-shawls !  Well,  well,  we  shall  meet 
again,  as  the  bees  said  to  the  bear  when  he  stole  their  honey ; 
and  it  will  go  badly  with  the  sweater  on  that  occasion." 

"Now,  don't  be  vindictive,"  said  Joseph  to  his  hench 
man. 

"  Reb  Joseph  ! "  cried  the  little  pedler,  getting  into  a 
highly  agitated  state,  "  you  are  too  calm  and  too  forgiving. 
You  must  have  more  spirit  of  vengeance  in  you,  if  you 
want  to  be  a  popular  leader  !  Do  you  ever  see  me,  now, 
pardoning  the  beasts  of  sweaters  ?  I'd  prick  'em  to  death 
with  their  own  needles  if  I  had  my  way.  But  you,  Joseph, 
you  would  forgive  everybody  —  even  Freier  —  or  —  or 
Baumeister." 

"  What  news  of  Baumeister  ?  "  inquired  Joseph  quickly. 


302  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"  He's  going  crazy  at  a  fast  pace,  they  say.  When  he 
comes  but  of  one  fit  he  chatters  about  his  work  until  he  has 
another  one,  like  the  monkey  that  ate  the  green  pepper. 
Some  think  he's  shamming,  but  I  call  him  a  sure  enough 
crazy  man.  Who  else  would  have  opposed  you  and  tried 
to  get  you  killed,  Joseph  ?  " 

"  Who,  indeed  ?  "  said  Joseph  with  a  weary  smile.  "  But 
if  I  am  ever  free  of  this  place,  I  will  go  to  visit  Baumeister, 
and  do  all  that  I  can  for  him,  and  for  the  child  which  you 
have  told  me  of." 

Ben  Zion  made  a  gesture  which  indicated  his  extreme 
willingness  to  perform  one  office  —  that  of  hangman  —  for 
the  now  disconsolate  leader  of  the  "  party  of  force ;  "  but  he 
took  care  to  say  no  more  of  his  uncharitable  sentiments  to 
his  leader,  whose  forgiving  nature  was  a  source  of  perpet 
ual  perplexity  to  him. 

On  one  point  Joseph's  patience  did  not  seem  exhaustless. 
When  Ben  Zion  told  him  that  Freier  was  moving  heaven 
and  earth  to  undo  all  that  the  Union  had  succeeded  in  doing 
to  promote  the  independence  of  the  poor  working-men,  the 
imprisoned  leader's  eyes  flashed,  and  lie  rattled  the  iron 
bars  of  the  "  dangerous  offences  "  section  so  that  a  keeper 
hurried  up  to  see  what  had  happened. 

Another  month  went  by  with  such  slowness  that  it 
seemed  a  year  to  Joseph.  He  lived  in  a  kind  of  waking 
dream,  from  which  he  was  aroused  now  and  then  only  to 
hear  of  the  burial  of  old  Manasseh,  and  the  fact  that 
Shiphrah  in  her  den  of  slavery  had  not  heard  of  her  be 
reavement  until  a  few  hours  before  the  funeral ;  or  to  be 
told  that  Baumeister  would  never  be  brought  to  trial,  hav 
ing  already  shown  such  violent  insanity  that  he  could  not 
be  produced  in  public  ;  or  to  consult  with  the  counsel  which 
the  Union  had  furnished  him,  with  reference  to  the  conduct 
of  his  own  case. 


JOSEPH   COMES   FOKTH  303 

He  had  lost  all  hope,  and  had  but  one  wish,  —  to  know 
the  worst,  so  that  he  might  steel  his  spirit  to  endure  it. 
His  heart  bled  for  his  wife  and  child ;  he  felt  no  anger 
toward  any  one,  not  even  toward  the  prejudiced  people 
who  represented  him  as  an  enemy  to  Society  and  a  corrupt 
demagogue. 

On  the  day  before  his  trial  began  in  the  court  of  Oyer  and 
Terminer,  Bathsheba  made  an  attempt  to  see  him  ;  but  he 
refused  to  receive  her,  and  sent  back  word  that  "  she  must 
have  courage  for  herself ;  he  had  none  left  to  offer  her." 

This  was  so  bitter  a  speech  for  Joseph  to  make,  that  he 
himself  regretted  it  after  it  was  made,  and  would  have  re 
called  it  had  it  been  possible. 

Finally  came  the  trial  ;  the  shock  of  removal  from  the 
prison  world,  with  its  tomb-like  stillness  and  the  half 
lights,  to  the  glare  and  bustle  of  day,  with  the  eagerly 
curious,  unsympathetic,  sneering  faces  in  the  street ;  the 
curt  insolence  of  keepers  and  deputies,  and  the  fierce 
attacks  of  the  prosecutors  upon  him. 

One  thing  alone  kept  him  up.  It  was  the  almost  rever 
ential  demeanor  of  his  poor  cloakmakers,  who  daily  sent  a 
delegation  to  watch  the  trial,  and  to  offer  him  their  feeble 
aid.  The  sturdy  sympathy  of  David  and  Ben  Zion,  who 
were  with  him  whenever  it  was  permissible,  was  also 
encouraging. 

"  It  was  wise  not  to  let  the  women  come  to  court,  Joseph," 
said  Ben  Zion.  "  They  would  have  been  making  a  scene. 
But  we  stoics  know  how  to  shut  our  teeth  hard,  and  bear 
whatever  mischief  the  Devil  sends  us." 

And  Joseph  himself  was  glad  that  Malcha  was  not  there, 
when,  at  the  close  of  the  trial,  in  whicli  it  seemed  to  him 
that  all  his  motives  and  aims  were  misrepresented,  he 
found  that  he  was  sentenced  to  twenty-one  months  imprison 
ment  in  Sing-Sing,  as  a  common  malefactor. 


304  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAH 

A  gray  mist  seemed  to  arise  before  his  eyes.  His  life 
appeared  a  useless  garment,  which  he  might  now  lay  aside. 
He  had  been  crippled  in  the  battle ;  and  what  could  it 
matter  now  where  he  was  laid  away  to  die  ? 

While  he  sat  stunned,  vaguely  wondering  what  they 
would  do  next,  his  counsel  placed  his  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
and  said,  "  Cheer  up,  friend  Joseph  !  the  fight  is  not  at  an 
end  yet  —  by  any  means.  We  shall  appeal  the  case;  and 
meantime  we  shall  apply  for  a  certificate  of  reasonable 
doubt  of  your  moral  guilt,  which  I  think  the  judge  is  dis 
posed  to  give.  If  we  get  that,  we  will  have  you  out  of  the 
'  Tombs '  on  bail  in  less  than  a  week  !  Then  it  might  be  a 
long  time  before  the  decision  in  Supreme  Court  General 
Term." 

It  took  Joseph  some  minutes  to  grasp  this  idea.  When 
he  had  mastered  it,  a  little  color  came  into  his  thin  cheeks. 

"  And  I  could  be  free  to  pursue  my  work  for  six  months, 
or  perhaps  a  year,  before  the  appeal  is  decided !  "  he  cried, 
rising  up.  "Why,  I  ask  nothing  better !  It  would  be  a 
chance  to  give  Freier  another  lesson  ! "  And  he  closed 
his  hands  tightly,  and  drew  a  long  breath. 

Freier  had  been  in  court  twice,  with  his  sneering  face 
a '.id  insolent  manners;  and  had  even  nodded  familiarly  to 
Joseph,  and  grinned  an  evil  grin.  Joseph's  blood  boiled 
as  he  thought  of  the  man's  contemptuous  air,  and  the  way 
in  which  he  disclayed  his  fat  fingers  loaded  with  heavy 
gold  rings. 

Bathsheba,  too,  had  appeared  at  the  trial  once  only. 
Joseph  had  seen  her  face  for  a  moment,  and  she  had  grown 
very  pale,  and  turned  to  avoid  his  gaze.  Now  that  there 
was  some  small  prospect  of  at  least  temporary  freedom,  lie 
was  surprised  to  find  himself  asking,  "  Shall  I  ever  see  her 
again  ?  " 

After  a  few  days  of  dreary  waiting  the  lawyer's  predio 


JOSEPH   COMES   FORTH  805 

tions  were  verified.  Appeal  had  been  taken  from  the 
decision,  and  the  "  certificate  of  reasonable  doubt "  was 
granted.  Bail  was  reduced  to  a  figure  which  the  Union 
could  meet,  and  Ben  Zion  and  half  a  dozen  others  at  once 
set  off  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements. 

Malcha  had  insisted  on  coming  to  see  Joseph  as  soon  as 
his  conviction  was  announced ;  but  he  had  compelled  her 
to  return  to  the  colony  and  await  his  liberation  on  bail. 

David  comforted  the  little  woman  with  assurances  that 
the  Court  of  Appeals  would  never  confirm  such  an  infamy 
as  the  sentence  ;  and  this  sentiment  was  making  its  way  in 
the  Union.  But  wherever  the  cloakmakers  were  beginning 
to  hold  up  their  heads  again,  the  malignant  influence  of 
Freier  appeared,  and  the  hand  of  Freier  came  out  of  the 
darkness  and  struck  the  poor  slaves  to  earth. 

Early  one  morning  Ben  Zion  came  bounding  into  the  sec 
tion  of  the  prison  where  Joseph  was  confined,  with  so  ag 
gressive  an  air  that  the  kee*per  was  at  first  inclined  to  lock 
him  up  for  a  few  minutes,  to  "take  the  cheek  out  of  him." 
But  when  he  heard  that  the  little  pedler  brought  news  of 
bail,  and  immediate  freedom  for  Joseph,  he  forgave  him. 

Joseph's  hands  trembled,  and  he  could  scarcely  pack  the 
few  small  articles  strewn  about  his  cell.  Now  that  the 
doors  were  to  open,  an  immense  responsibility  seemed  to 
settle  down  upon  his  shoulders,  and  he  gasped  as  if  it  were 
crushing  him. 

Getting  into  harness  again  was  not  easy. 

Two  hours  later  the  formalities  were  all  fulfilled ;  the 
bail  which  long  ago  had  been  scornfully  refused,  was  now 
accepted,  and  Joseph  was  soon  in  the  office  of  his  counsel. 

He  reeled  like  a  drunken  man,  clutched  at  the  back  of  a 
chair,  and  asked  piteously  for  a  glass  of  water.  He  caught 
sight  of  his  face  in  a  little  mirror,  and  felt  shocked  to  see 
how  pale  and  wretched  he  looked. 


306  JOSEPH   ZALMOJJAII 

"Let  me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice,  Zalmonah,"  said  his 
counsel ;  "  I  hear  that  some  of  your  friends  have  started  a 
little  enterprise  up  in  the  country  somewhere.  If  I  were 
you,  I  should  join  them.  To  go  back  to  agitation  at  once 
might  have  a  bad  effect  on  your  case,  you  know." 

"  Have  I  been  brought  out  of  the  '  Tombs,'  to  be  led  away 
and  made  useless  ?  "  said  Joseph,  who  spoke  very  precise 
English  when  aroused.  "  If  I  have,  I  am  ready  to  go  back 
at  once." 

"  Oh,  do  as  you  please,  my  boy !  "  said  the  famous  lawyer, 
who  had  had  a  good  many  hundred  dollars,  raked  and 
scraped  together  by  the  cloakmakers  and  the  friends  of 
Joseph,  since  the  case  began,  and  who  felt  that  he  must 
do  something  for  his  money.  "But  I  think  a  little 
prudent  abstention,  you  know  " — 

"  Good-day,"  said  Joseph,  and  tottered  out,  followed  by 
Ben  Zion,  who  was  muttering  that  lawyers  ought  all  to  be 
hanged  on  one  tree,  after  which  men  could  settle  their 
grievances  at  one-half  less  than  they  now  pay. 

Once  across  the  Bowery,  and  in  the  familiar  world  of  the 
East  Side  tenement  region,  Joseph  found  a  perpetual 
ovation  awaiting  him.  The  women  held  up  their  babies 
that  he  might  touch  them  ;  the  old  men  in  caps  and  caftans 
muttered  blessings  on  him  ;  the  poor  pale  girls  smiled  their 
languid  thanks  for  his  martyrdom  in  their  behalf. 

And  now  came  Malcha  and  Zipporah  rushing  to  cast 
themselves  into  his  arms ;  and  David,  smiling  and  sowing 
proverbs  in  all  directions  ;  and  Mordecai  Menzer,  "  the 
people's  poet,"  with  his  little  wife,  holding  out  hands,  and 
uttering  flowery  welcomes  ;  and  one  or  two  repentant  mem 
bers  of  the  old  "  party  of  force,"  who  had  been  warned  by 
Baumeister's  sad  fate,  and  had  decided  to  return  to  their 
primitive  allegiance  while  there  was  yet  time. 

Together  they  went,  tumultuously  happy,  to  the  offices  of 


JOSEPH   COMES    FORTH  307 

the  Union,  where  such  a  throng  was  gathered  that  the 
police  hung  anxiously  on  its  outskirts. 

In  the  little  room  with  the  broken-backed  chairs  and  the 
lame  writing-table,  where  the  officers  of  the  Union  held 
their  meetings,  Joseph  stood  up  to  make  a  speech,  with 
Malcha  looking  on  proudly,  and  David  and  Mordecai 
applauding  every  other  sentence. 

He  concluded  with  this  phrase,  "  I  will  take  up  the  work 
again,  if  you  will  agree  that  you  will  remain  in  rebellion 
against  the  cruel  taskmasters  who  make  your  lives  'bitter 
with  bondage.'  " 

The  good  old  words  from  Exodus  seemed  to  put  force  into 
his  breast. 

"  Yes,  yes,  Joseph  !  go  away  now  and  rest,  and  when 
you  come  back  we  will  smite  the  sweaters  and  drive  them 
out  of  the  trade." 

"  And  if  you  require  a  leader  while  Joseph  is  gone,  you 
have  only  to  apply  to  me,"  said  Ben  Zion  in  a  loud  voice, 
and  smiting  himself  on  the  breast  with  an  air  of  impor 
tance. 

Everybody  laughed,  at  which  the  little  pedler  bristled 
up  and  looked  fierce,  which  provoked  still  more  laugh 
ter. 

And  presently  Joseph  and  his  friends  went  away  to  the 
loft  in  David's  theatre,  where  they  had  a  simple  meal,  and 
sat  listening  to  the  members  of  the  chorus  rehearsing; 
and  Joseph,  dazed  by  the  fresh  air  and  the  excitement, 
fell  asleep  on  a  pile  of  costumes,  and  enjoyed  the  first  really 
refreshing  slumber  that  he  had  known  for  weeks. 

When  the  young  labor-leader  awoke  it  was  late  in  the 
afternoon.  Near  him,  and  waiting  patiently  for  him  to  open 
his  eyes,  two  cloakmakers  —  a  wretched  operator,  already 
half  paralyzed  by  his  terrible  slavery  on  the  machine,  and 


308  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

a  gawky  boy,  arrayed  in  nothing  but  a  flannel  shirt  and  a 
pair  of  much-worn  trousers  —  were  sitting. 

David  came  bustling  in.  "Now,  say  your  say  to  Reb 
Joseph,"  he  cried,  "  and  be  off !  Has  not  he  done  enough 
for  you  yet  ?  " 

The  man  assumed  a  whining  tone,  and,  ignoring  David, 
he  said,  "  Reb  Joseph,  we  heard  that  you  got  out  this 
morning,  and  we  hurried  to  find  you,  and  ask  you  to  inter 
fere  and  save  us." 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  "  said  Joseph,  sitting  up  and  looking 
around  rather  sleepily.  "  Am  I  not  a  fallen  leader  ?  " 

"Reb  Joseph,"  said  the  man,  "  since  you  were  put  in  — 
there  —  we  have  been  working  for  a  contractor  who  got 
garments  from  Freier  and  Monach.  Things  went  on  bad 
from  the  start,  but  we  did  get  some  wages  every  week, 
until  last  Saturday,  when  the  scoundrel  of  a  contractor  up 
and  bolted.  And  he  has  carried  off  the  wages  of  all  the 
people  in  the  shop.  Two  hundred  and  seventy  dollars,  it 
was.  My  share  was  fourteen,  and  we  can't  get  anything. 
Even  the  machines  had  been  mortgaged  by  the  contractor 
weeks  ago.  We  can't  touch  them.  Oh,  but  he  was  a  cunning 
rascal !  And  we  are  starving  !  " 

Here  the  boy  in  the  flannel  shirt  began  to  blubber  sym 
pathetically. 

"We  went  to  Freier,"  said  the  man;  "he  laughed  at  us, 
and  said  he  had  paid  the  contractor,  and  had  nothing  to  do 
with  us.  And  he  told  us  to  get  out.  He  shut  the  door  in 
our  faces  himself." 

"  When  ?  "  said  Joseph,  arising  suddenly,  and  making  his 
old  gesture  of  command. 

"  Yesterday,  Reb  Joseph." 

"  Don't  Reb  me.  Do  you  take  me  for  a  patriarch  ?  Get 
up  and  stop  that  boy's  howling  ;  give  me  the  address  of  your 
shop,  and  go  home.  I  will  see  Freier,  and  tell  him  he  must 


JOSEPH    COMES    FORTH  309 

find  you  work  in  the  old  place  until  the  scoundrel  of  a 
sweater  can  be  caught  and  punished.  Go  to  the  Union  and 
tell  the  secretary  to  give  you  a  dollar  each.  That  will  last 
you  a  few  days,  won't  it  ?  I  have  lived  on  a  dollar  and  a 
half  a  week.  You  can." 

The  man  and  boy  arose,  gave  him  the  contractor's  address 
and  went  away  comforted. 

"  What  time  does  the  train  leave  for  the  colony  ?  "  in 
quired  Joseph. 

"  At  seven  o'clock.  Lie  down  and  rest,  for  you  will  need 
all  your  strength  for  the  journey,"  answered  David. 

"  I  will  return  here  in  two  hours." 

Malcha  came  running  to  him,  and  threw  her  arms  around 
him. 

"  No  work  to-day,  Joseph,  I  beg  of  you ! " 

"  I  am  going  to  have  a  little  talk  with  Freier  before  I 
leave  town,"  he  said  calmly. 

Malcha  began  to  cry.  "  What  new  trouble,  Joseph,  will 
you  bring  upon  us  ?  That  man  will  provoke  you  if  he  can, 
and  have  you  put  in  prison  again." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort  will  happen,  and  Herr  Freier  will 
be  as  obedient  as  possible.  Come,  Ben  Zion,  I  shall  want 
you  as  a  witness." 

The  little  pedler  trotted  out  after  Joseph,  who  seemed 
to  have  all  his  old  strength  again. 

"  Let  them  go,"  said  David  to  the  lamenting  Malcha. 
"Joseph  is  right.  Freier  will  remember  that  he  still  has  a 
dangerous  antagonist  in  Joseph."  And  when  she  would 
have  reasoned  further  he  closed  her  mouth  with  a  proverb. 

Meantime  Joseph  and  his  little  henchman  strode  away 
to  the  office  of  Freier  and  Monach,  which  they  reached  in 
fifteen  minutes,  not  without  gathering  in  their  wake  quite 
a  company  of  cloakmakers  out  of  work,  who  were  eager  to 
see  what  Joseph  would  do. 


310  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

Freier  was  in  his  private  office,  surrounded  by  contractors 
who  had  come  to  solicit  the  privilege  of  receiving  from 
him  the  cloth,  already  cut,  which  they  were  to  make  their 
"slaves  "  transform  into  garments. 

The  contractors  saw  Joseph  first,  and  scattered  like  fright 
ened  sheep.  Most  of  them  knew  him  by  sight ;  the  rest 
from  description  :  all  feared  him. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  said  Freier,  in  jargon,  laughing 
at  the  sweaters.  "  Have  you  seen  a  factory  inspector  coming 
around  the  corner  ?  " 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  office  swung  open,  and 
Joseph  entered,  with  Ben  Zion  at  his  heels. 

"  Oh,  I  understand ! "  snarled  Freier,  turning  very  pale,  and 
stepping  back  behind  a  board  table,  on  which  lay  a  formid 
able  pair  of  shears.  "  No  wonder  the  poor  fellows  were 
frightened.  Here,  men ! "  he  shouted,  "  you  needn't  run  away. 
We  have  a  distinguished  visitor  —  Mr.  Joseph  Zalmonah, 
fresh  from  the  '  Tombs,'  and  he  has  something  to  communi 
cate." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  Joseph ;  "  but  you  need  not  fortify 
yourself.  I  wouldn't  touch  you  any  more  than  I  would  touch 
a  snake.  I  have  come  here  to  tell  you  what  you  must  do 
before  nightfall,  unless  you  wish  to  have  me  summon  my 
beggar's  army,  as  you  once  called  it,  and  pull  this  house  down 
over  your  head." 

"Ah  !  you  hear  him  ?  "  snarled  Freier,  retreating  gradually  ; 
"  he  gets  bailed  out  of  prison,  and  he  comes  straight  to  me, 
and  he  threatens  me.  Take  notice,  all !  I'll  have  him 
arrested  on  a  new  charge." 

Joseph  strode  forward  so  quickly  that  he  had  turned  the 
corner  of  the  table,  and  placed  his  hand  on  Freier's  shoulder, 
before  anyone  could  stop  him.  "Don't  let  me  hear  any 
more  of  that  sort  of  talk  ! "  he  said  in  a  low  tone.  "  You 
know  who  is  master  just  now.  I  have  but  a  few  words  to 
say." 


JOSEPH    COMES    FORTH  311 

And  briefly  he  recited  to  Freier  the  complaint  of  the 
starving  cloakmakers  whose  "  sweater  "  had  run  away. 

"  You  must  go  to  that  shop,  furnish  those  people  with 
work,  and  pay  them  for  it  at  the  end  of  the  week.  They 
cannot  perish  of  hunger  because  your  man  has  proved  a 
scoundrel  and  has  run  away  with  their  wages." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  them  ! "  screamed  Freier. 
"  Let  them  starve  and  rot !  They  are  no  good  anyway.  I 
can  get  a  thousand  better  workers  by  whistling  out  of  the 
door." 

Joseph  looked  Freier  steadily  in  the  face.  "  I  under 
stood  your  little  game  from  the  first,"  he  said,  "  but  I  am 
not  sorry  to  have  heard  you  confess  it.  You  have  worn 
out  that  lot  of  men  and  women  with  overwork,  and  you 
and  your  hound  of  a  sweater  have  arranged  a  conspiracy 
between  you  to  get  rid  of  them.  You  are  an  inhuman 
wretch.  I  have  been  released  just  in  time  to  check  you  in 
this  new  trick.  And  now  ohoose !  Will  you  give  those 
starving  people  work,  until  your  confederate  the  contractor 
can  be  found,  or  shall  I  tell  my  Union  what  I  think  is  the 
proper  punishment  for  a  man  who  has  broken  every  con 
tract  that  he  has  made  with  us  ?  " 

Freier's  whole  frame  quivered  with  excitement,  but  he 
managed  to  control  himself.  At  last  he  shook  himself  free 
from  Joseph's  hand,  and  said  sullenly,  — 

"Well,  I  will  give  the  poor  devils  one  more  chance, 
because  I  do  not  want  trouble  with  you  just  now.  I  will 
furnish  them  work  and  wages  until  another  contractor  will 
take  the  job.  But  let  me  tell  you,  Herr  Joseph,  that  your 
new  reign  will  be  very  brief.  You  fool !  Do  you  think  that 
you  will  be  allowed  to  meddle  much  longer  with  an  indus 
try  which  amounts  to  twenty-five  millions  of  dollars  a  year 
in  my  branch  alone  ?  Haven't  you  already  had  a  taste  of 
what  you  may  expect  if  you  keep  on  ?  I  hear  that  you  are 


312  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

out  on  appeal  now.  That's  all  right.  But  the  appeal  will 
be  decided  against  you,  and  you'll  go  up  the  river  all  the 
same  by  and  by.  And  while  you  are  up  there  for  twenty- 
one  months  we  can  do  as  we  please,  hey  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Joseph  haughtily  ;  "  but  you  can't  do  so 
now." 

Freier  fairly  foamed  at  the  lips.  He  seized  the  huge 
shears  and  dashed  them  with  terrible  violence  to  the 
floor.  The  contractors  gathered  around  him,  but  dared 
not  interfere. 

"Now,"  said  Ben  Zion,  "no  more  theatrical  business, 
Freier,  or  you  might  get  a  taste  of  the  '  Tombs '  yourself, 
and  you  wouldn't  like  it.  Good-by.  You  don't  look  pretty 
when  you  are  angry.  Come,  Herr  Joseph." 

"  Remember,"  said  Joseph,  shaking  his  hand  warningly 
at  Freier,  "if  your  promise  to  care  for  those  people  is  not 
redeemed  by  six  o'clock,  I  will  take  the  case  into  iny 
hands." 

Freier  bellowed  with  rage,  and  turned  and  ran  to  the  rear 
of  the  office,  and  threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

When  Joseph  had  got  into  the  open  air  again,  Freier's 
menacing  prophecy  seemed  to  follow  and  torment  him. 
Was  it  true  then  ?  Was  he  irretrievably  ruined,  and  would 
the  enemy  triumph  ?  He  went  back  to  the  little  theatre- 
loft  and  sat  in  a  corner,  gloomy  and  unwilling  to  talk,  until 
Malcha  summoned  him  to  start  for  the  train. 

Just  then  Ben  Zion,  who  had  been  detailed  to  report  on 
Freier's  movements,  came  in.  "  You  can  go  in  peace,  Hen- 
Joseph,"  he  said.  "  Freier  is  still  afraid  of  you.  He  has 
done  as  he  promised." 

"  Come,  then,"  said  Joseph,  with  a  flash  of  his  old  bright 
spirit,  "  let's  be  off  to  the  colony  ! " 


PURIM   IN   THE  COLONY  313 


CHAPTER  XXV 

PURIM   IN  THE  COLONY 

IT  was  a  still,  dreamy  afternoon  at  the  end  of  February 
—  one  of  those  days  when,  since  the  singular  moderation 
of  our  coast  climate,  violets  are  sometimes  found  timidly 
unveiling  their  exquisite  beauty  in  sheltered  glades  among 
the  New  England  hills. 

Long  ago  the  children  thought  themselves  fortunate  if 
they  could  find  beneath  the  crust  of  snow  in  the  late  days 
of  April  the  dainty  pink  flush  of  the  hardy  arbutus.  But 
all  that  is  changed  —  at  least  for  a  cycle  of  years  ;  and  as 
Joseph  sat  amid  the  fragrant  newly  sawn  planks  in  the 
old-fashioned  saw-mill  down  by  the  serviceable  stream 
which  supplied  the  colony  with  water,  he  could  almost 
persuade  himself  that  spring  had  arrived. 

"Sixteen  months  and  a  half,"  thought  Joseph.  "All 
that  time  have  I  been  here.  It  seems  to  separate  me  from 
the  old  life  as  if  it  were  a  period  of  ten  years.  Sixteen 
months  and  a  half  !  Am  I  the  same  man  ?  " 

After  nearly  eight  months  of  anxious  waiting  Joseph 
had  been  delighted  to  learn  from  his  counsel  that  the 
Supreme  Court,  General  Term,  had  reversed  the  decision 
of  the  Oyer  and  Terminer,  which  had  sentenced  him  to 
twenty-one  months  in  state  prison.  In  this  the  upper 
court  had  probably  been  influenced  by  the  "certificate  of 
reasonable  doubt  "  granted  by  the  judge  in  the  lower  one ; 


314  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAH 

and  by  the  fact  that  Joseph,  as  the  agent  of  his  Union,  in 
compelling  Freier  and  Monach  to  pay  a  sum  as  compensa 
tion  for  the  loss  of  the  workmen's  time  during  the  lock-out, 
had  but  followed  the  general  practice  of  the  foreign  Unions 
in  New  York  City. 

Joseph's  counsel  encouraged  him  to  believe  that  this  was 
an  end  to  the  whole  matter ;  but  the  event  proved  that  he 
was  too  sanguine.  The  District  Attorney  announced  his 
intention  of  carrying  the  case  to  the  Court  of  Appeals, 
and  refused  to  quash  the  indictment  until  that  court  of  last 
resort  had  decided  whether  or  not  Joseph  were  guilty  of 
the  crime  of  extortion. 

This  course  was  unusual,  and  was  at  once  cited  as  perse 
cution.  But  the  prosecuting  officer  disclaimed  any  feeling 
in  the  matter,  and  considered  himself  insulted  by  the  mere 
supposition  that  he  could  wish  anything  else  than  a  clear 
ing  up  of  the  points  of  law. 

Joseph  was  at  first  profoundly  discouraged  by  this  new 
complication,  which  left  the  sword  still  hanging  over  his 
head ;  and  his  discouragement  was  increased  by  the  news 
brought  to  him  by  Ben  Zion  that  Freier  was  wild  with 
delight  at  the  new  turn  matters  had  taken. 

He  proclaimed  everywhere  among  the  sweaters  that 
Joseph  would  certainly  be  sent  back  to  prison  by  the  Court 
of  Appeals;  and  Joseph  suspected  that  an  anonymous 
letter  which  reached  him  at  the  colony,  containing  these 
words,  "  You  will  see  Sing-Sing  yet,  so  don't  get  proud," 
was  the  work  of  Freier's  pen. 

But  Malcha  and  David  and  Ben  Zion  and  the  majority 
of  the  cloakmakers  believed  the  enthusiastic  declarations  of 
his  counsel  that  Joseph's  troubles  were  over,  and  that  he 
would  soon  be  able  to  return  to  his  work  among  them, 
untrammelled,  justified,  and  triumphant. 

Joseph  arose  from  his  seat  on  a  log,  and  went  over  to  the 


PURIM   IN   THE   COLONY  315 

primitive  sink  where  he  and  his  workmen  made  their  rude 
toilet  after  work.  A  piece  of  broken  mirror  was  tacked 
to  the  pine  planking,  just  level  with  Joseph's  eyes.  He 
looked  into  it  and  started  back  in  mock  dismay. 

"I  have  grown  younger,"  he  said,  "  not  older;  and  those 
ugly  wrinkles  have  covered  themselves  up.  What  a  grand 
thing  it  is  to  have  enough  to  eat,  appetite  to  eat  it,  and 
fresh  air  to  breathe  ! " 

His  features  expressed  content.  Yet  he  sighed.  And  at 
that  moment,  as  by  some  magic,  he  seemed  to  see  arising,  in 
the  little  square  of  glass,  the  beautiful,  but  sad  and  yearn 
ing,  face  of  Bathsheba. 

A  shadow  fell  across  everything  for  a  moment. 

But  it  went  as  swiftly  as  it  had  come,  and  Joseph 
returned  to  his  work,  murmuring,  — 

"  Heigh  ho !    I  wonder  if  the  poor  thing  is  happy  at  last  ?  " 

The  memory  of  Bathsheba  brought  in  its  train  a  host  of 
other  remembrances,  and  he  passed  them  in  review. 
Baumeister,  long  ago  transferred  from  the  "  Tombs  "  to  a 
lunatic  asylum,  from  which  he  was  likely  never  to  emerge ; 
Freier,  with  his  evil  smile  and  menacing  gestures ;  Shiph- 
rah,  with  her  heart-broken  air,  her  pallid  face  and  trembling 
limbs  —  these  had  been  a  part  of  his  life.  Would  they 
ever  interest  him  again  ?  Was  it  not  selfish  of  him  to 
breathe  fresh  air,  and  eat  wholesome  food,  while  his  people 
still  struggled  in  the  noisome  dens  of  the  East  Side  ? 

He  felt  guilty  because  of  his  own  physical  well-being. 
He  seemed  to  hear  a  voice  saying,  "  Joseph,  hast  thou  for 
gotten  thy  brethren  ?  " 

A  little  door  at  the  back  of  the  mill  flew  open,  and 
Zipporah  bounded  in,  her  olive-colored  cheeks  tinged  with 
a  wholesome  red,  her  eyes  sparkling,  and  her  small  frame, 
grown  chubby  since  she  had  come  to  the  colony,  all  quiver 
ing  with  excitement. 


316  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 

"  0  Tate  !  "  1  she  cried,  taking  off  her  hood,  and  swinging 
it  by  the  strings,  "have  you  chosen  your  present  to  David  for 
Purim?  Don't  you  know  that  you  should  give  it  to-day  ?" 

Joseph  took  Zipporah  on  his  knees,  and  stroked  her 
rumpled  hair.  "True,"  he  said,  "we  must  give  David 
something  nice.  Here's  a  little  money ;  run  down  to  the 
store  and  buy  it,  and  mind  that  you  don't  tell  him  before 
hand  what  it  is  to  be." 

Zipporah  took  the  coin  and  bounded  away  on  her  mission, 
leaping  over  the  planks  like  a  young  fawn. 

Joseph's  memory  went  back  to  his  boyhood's  days  in  the 
Russian  village,  when  presents  were  sent  from  one  house  to 
another,  and  when  each  recipient  immediately  sent  one  in 
exchange,  wrapped  in  a  handkerchief,  and  accompanied 
with  good  wishes. 

Purim  !  The  feast  of  gladness.  The  day  when  old  and 
young  rejoiced  together,  and  when  families  were  reunited 
around  the  festal  board. 

"  Ah  !  that  accounts  for  the  noise  last  night,  I  suppose," 
he  said.  "The  young  folks  were  jumping  on  Hainan.  I 
thought  that  was  it." 

Purim  is  preceded  by  the  feast  of  Esther,  the  clever 
beauty  whose  witchery  helped  to  save  the  Jews.  On  that 
day  the  sacred  story  is  read  aloud  ;  and  whenever  among 
the  Russian  Jews  the  name  of  Hainan  is  mentioned,  it  is 
the  subject  of  universal  execration,  and  the  children  and 
youth  go  through  the  motions  of  "  jumping  upon  him,"  and 
trampling  him  to  death. 

In  some  of  the  densely  settled  sections  of  the  East  Side 
this  ceremony  is  attended  with  so  much  noise  that  the 
police  come  running  to  see  where  the  riot  is.  "  What  is 
the  disturbance  about  ?  "  they  anxiously  ask. 

"Jumping  on  Hainan,"  is  the  quiet  reply,  and  the  salta- 
»  Papa. 


PUEIM  IN   THE  COLONY  317 

tory  exercises  are  kept  up  with  increased  vigor  until  morn 
ing. 

And  here  they  were  celebrating  Purim  in  that  far-off  New 
England  colony,  thousands  of  miles  of  stormy  water  and 
of  vast  plains  intervening  between  them  and  their  old 
llussian  home  in  the  "  Pale,"  where  they  were  at  liberty  to 
do  almost  nothing  without  a  "  declaration."  Here  they  were 
free  to  celebrate  as  they  chose,  and  no  one  interfered  with 
or  spied  upon  them.  Surely  this  was  a  great  gain.  Joseph 
felt  a  wave  of  thankfulness  arising  in  his  heart. 

He  had  been  absent  when  the  feast  occurred  on  the  pre 
vious  year.  This  year  he  would  participate  in  it. 

David's  colonial  experiment  was  prospering.  With  six 
teen  hundred  dollars  which  he  had  saved  out  of  a  prosper 
ous  season  at  his  theatre,  he  had  purchased  three  abandoned 
farms  on  the  edge  of  a  Connecticut  village,  and  had  placed 
a  dozen  families,  taken  out  of  the  clutches  of  the  sweaters, 
upon  them. 

The  farms  had  been  bought  from  a  railroad  company, 
which  had  purchased  them  from  their  migrating  owners 
for  the  timber  which  their  forests  contained.  This  had 
been  stripped  away ;  but  the  rocky  acres  and  the  numerous 
buildings,  most  of  them  in  very  good  repair,  were  a  god 
send  to  the  poor  refugees  when  they  arrived. 

David  gave  them  everything  rent  free  for  the  first  year; 
and,  installing  themselves  in  the  old-fashioned  farmhouses 
and  even  in  the  deserted  barns,  they  began  the  manufacture 
of  cheap  wallets,  of  suspenders,  of  silk  hats  such  as  the 
Bowery  beau  delights  in.  They  got  sewing-machines  from 
a  neighboring  town,  and  then  began  a  "  race  with  labor  for 
independence,"  as  David  expressed  it. 

Accustomed  to  the  long  hours  of  the  sweaters'  dens,  they 
could  not  bring  themselves  to  reasonable  periods  of  toil,  and 
the  Yankee  farmers  round  about,  who  thoroughly  respect 


318  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

a  talent  for  hard  work,  began  to  take  a  liking  to  the  tem 
perate,  inoffensive  new-comers,  who  worked  from  sunrise 
until  eleven  P.M.,  and  spent  their  holidays  in  song  and  in 
picturesque  ceremonials. 

In  the  keen  air  of  the  New  England  hills  the  men  ant 
women  whose  faces  had  become  deathly  white  under  the 
horrible  slavery  in  the  sweaters'  dens  were  getting  a 
healthy  color.  Old  patriarchs  who  had  been  tottering  on 
the  verge  of  the  grave  suddenly  seemed  to  receive  a  new 
lease  of  life. 

The  women,  who  now  and  then  had  a  chance  to  observe 
the  prim  neatness  of  the  Connecticut  farmers'  wives,  began 
to  leave  their  slattern  ways  behind  them.  And  the  chil 
dren  romped  all  over  the  fields  in  all  seasons,  and  laughed 
and  rejoiced  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  as  if  they  had  never 
known  the  horrors  of  Ludlow  or  Essex  Streets. 

Here  and  there  a  family  worked  at  the  making  of  cloth 
ing,  and  turned  an  old  farmhouse  kitchen  into  a  repro 
duction  of  the  crowded  shops  of  the  East  Side.  But  the 
windows  were  open ;  air  and  light  were  abundant,  and 
wholesome,  although  coarse,  food  was  plenty.  "  The  work 
ers  in  our  shops  sing  at  their  toil,"  said  David  one  day  to 
Freier,  whom  he  had  chanced  to  meet  on  the  Bowery,  and 
who  had  asked  him,  with  a  thinly-veiled  sneer,  for  news  of 
"  that  enthusiast,"  Joseph.  "  Our  people  sing  at  their  work, 
but  yours  never  do." 

Freier  had  scowled  and  passed  on,  and  that  day  he  had 
been  more  than  usually  brutal  to  contractors,  sub-contract 
ors,  poor  people  imploring  "  jobs,"  and  all  who  came  within 
the  scope  of  his  tyranny. 

Having  got  this  little  social  experiment  well  under  way, 
David  had  returned  into  his  old  life  at  the  theatre,  where 
he  continued  to  prosper  and  to  quote  proverbs.  But  Miryam 
remained  behind,  and  abode  with  Joseph  and  Malcha. 


PU1UM  IN   THE  COLONY  319 

Miryam  was  a  child  no  longer;  but  with  a  precocious 
womanliness  had  come  to  her  a  mysterious  languor  and  a 
strange  pallor,  which  disquieted  all  who  loved  her.  Her 
grave,  sweet  face,  with  its  introspective  eyes,  was  never 
more  beautiful  than  when  she  was  watching  Joseph  at  the 
work  which  he  had  chosen,  and  which  the  physician,  who 
had  warned  him  that  his  lungs  were  in  danger,  had  advised 
him  to  adopt. 

As  Joseph  was  destined  to  be  a  leader  wherever  he  might 
be,  he  very  soon  found  himself  surcharged  with  the  cares 
of  the  little  colony,  so  that  his  own  work  sometimes  suf 
fered.  But  he  prospered  none  the  less ;  and  the  two  or 
three  visits  which  he  had  made  to  New  York  had  convinced 
him  that  the  Union  was  holding  out  fairly  well  under 
the  guidance  of  those  whom  he  had  appointed  to  replace 
him.  ,% 

The  sweaters  had  been  held  in  check  for  nearly  a  year 
after  the  termination  of  the  great  lock-out.  But  now  they 
were  beginning  to  raise  their  heads  again.  Joseph  heard 
this  from  many  sources ;  and  he  said  daily  to  Malcha,  "  I 
must  have  another  brush  with  those  fellows  yet." 

A  curiously  misspelled  letter  from  Ben  Zion  now  and  then 
confirmed  this  conviction.  In  one  instance  the  wages  had 
been  reduced  without  the  shadow  of  an  excuse ;  in  another, 
the  sweaters  were  beginning  their  old  trick  of  making  cuts 
in  wages  on  trifling  pretexts;  in  yet  another,  they  were  in 
sisting  on  a  return  to  the  long  hours,  and  were  paying  women 
only  three  dollars  weekly  for  sixteen  hours'  work  daily. 

"  It  will  get  better  again  soon,  Joseph,"  pleaded  Malcha ; 
"  why  waste  your  life  in  fighting  those  wretched  sweaters  ?  " 
and  Joseph  would  stop  talking  about  the  subject,  only  to 
begin  again  on  the  first  favorable  occasion. 

On  this  day  of  Purim  his  thoughts  roved  far  from  the 
colony,  as  he  sat  alone  among  the  logs  and  planks  in  the 


320  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

mill.  He  had  worked  but  little  there  during  the  winter, 
although  the  river  had  not  been  frozen;  and  on  this  beauti 
ful  February  day,  so  like  spring,  he  had  been  giving  the 
old  saw  a  trial.  Now  he  was  resting  and  thinking. 

The  image  of  Baumeister  arose  before  him.  He  remem 
bered  the  day  when,  shortly  after  his  installation  at  the 
colony,  he  had  returned  to  New  York  to  see  Baumeister  at 
the  insane  asylum  to  which  he  had  been  transferred  under 
a  judge's  order. 

This  visit  had  been  a  great  shock  to  Joseph.  As  he  stood 
facing  poor  crazed  Baumeister  in  the  narrow  and  crowded 
ward  of  the  asylum,  he  had  felt  as  if  he  were  standing  on 
the  perilous  brink  of  some  black  and  bottomless  abyss. 

Out  of  this  dread  depth  came  up  questionings  and  men 
aces  and  all  kinds  of  incoherent  prophecies,  but  nothing 
which  could  serve  in  any  way  as  a  guide  to  poor  toiling 
exiles  and  refugees. 

Joseph  dimly  felt,  although  perhaps  he  could  not  have 
expressed  it  so,  as  if  Baumeister,  with  his  wild  and  reckless 
aspirations,  his  passionate  hate  of  society  and  desire  for 
vengeance  upon  it,  and  his  utter  lack  of  conscience,  were 
the  product  of  the  dull  centuries  of  Russian  oppression  and 
savage  cruelty.  The  soul  had  been  stunted,  and  was  not 
competent  thereafter  to  arise  to  the  full  measure  of  a  large 
liberty. 

Baumeister  did  not  seem  to  think  Joseph's  visit  at  all 
extraordinary.  He  greeted  the.  young  labor-leader  in  the 
most  natural  manner,  and  began  pouring  forth  a  torrent  of 
complaints  about  his  sufferings  while  he  was  in  prison. 

"  Everybody  went  to  see  you,  Herr  Joseph,"  he  said,  "  and 
carried  you  good  things  to  eat,  but  nobody  came  near  me. 
And  they  kept  me  in  a  very  damp  place.  All  this  because 
that  old  fool  of  a  Wonder-Rabbi  swore  my  liberty  away." 

Joseph  gazed  at  him  in  astonishment.     Had  Baumeister 


PUHIM   IN   THE  COLONY  321 

forgotten  the  events  which  led  to  his  imprisonment ;  or 
was  he  feigning  forgetfnlness  ? 

"  Tell  me,  Baumeister,"  he  said,  "  did  you  really  set  fire 
to  Simon's  house,  knowing  that  your  wife  and  child  were 
there  and  might  be  burned  to  death  ?  And  have  you  for 
gotten  that  you  were  seen  in  the  house  by  Bathsheba,  by 
me,  and  that  I  saved  you  from  getting  roasted  yourself  ? 
Come,  now,  there's  a  good  fellow,  try  and  remember  !  " 

Baumeister  did  not  answer  for  a  minute  or  two.  He  began 
rocking  to  and  fro,  staring  at  the  keeper,  who  was  listening 
rather  jealously  to  their  conversation  in  the  jargon,  of 
which  he  understood  not  a  word. 

Suddenly  he  jumped  up  and  down,  and  a  wild,  fierce  light 
came  into  his  eyes.  Joseph  recoiled  a  few  steps,  but 
Baumeister  came  up  to  him  with  quick,  stealthy  step,  like 
an  animal  about  to  seize  its  prey,  and  shouted,  — 

"  Esther  was  her  name  !  She  haunted  me  !  She  hindered 
my  work  !  And  she  went  up  in  smoke,  she  and  the  child  ! " 

"No,  Baumeister,  no,"  said  Joseph  with  an  expression  of 
intense  pity  in  his  eyes  ;  "  the  child  was  saved,  and  shall  be 
cared  for  as  long  as  I  live.  Ben  Zion  has  it  in  his  keeping, 
and  you  know  he  is  a  good  little  man." 

Baumeister  looked  earnistly  at  Joseph  for  a  long  time. 
Then  he  began  to  laugh ;  his  eyes  burned  with  a  curious 
light,  and  his  breathing  grew  hoarse.  Finally  he  spread 
out  his  arms,  and  fell  face  forward  in  a  fit. 

"  It's  no  good  talking  to  him  any  more  to-day,"  said  the 
keeper,  edging  Joseph  away,  as  if  he  meant  to  push  him 
out  of  the  ward.  "  When  he  gets  over  one  of  those  fits  lie 
is  as  crazy  as  a  loon ;  wants  to  have  a  crown,  and  thinks  he 
is  the  Czar  of  Russia,  and  a  hundred  things  wuss  than  that." 

And  so  it  proved.  When  Baumeister  recovered  conscious 
ness,  his  first  act  was  to  recoil  from  Joseph  with  an  expres 
sion  of  horror,  and  to  say,  "  Don't  let  him  touch  me  !  Ho 


322  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

has  claws  and  horns  !     Bring  me  my  crown  and  sceptre,  and 
I  will  command  him  to  retire." 

Joseph  went  out  heart-sick  and  dazed.  "  The  poor  crea 
ture  gets  crazier  every  day,"  said  the  keeper.  "  He  will 
never  be  brought  to  trial.  Sometimes  he  thinks  he  is  lead 
ing  a  party  of  rioters,  and  he  dances  up  and  down  the  ward, 
shouting  blood  and  thunder,  burn,  sack,  and  destroy,  until 
you'd  think  the  universe  was  coming  to  an  end.  Now  and 
then  he  gets  some  of  the  violent  cases  in  the  ward  to  follow 
him  when  he  makes  a  rush  ;  and  on  my  soul,  when  you'd  see 
them  lunatics  a-charging,  with  Baumeister  shouting  out  the 
few  English  words  he  knows  to  'em,  you'd  think  we  had  an 
assemblage  of  mad  tigers  in  there,  'deed  you  would  !  " 

"  Has  the  poor  man  no  visitors  ?  "  said  Joseph. 

"Once  in  awhile  a  lady  comes  to  see  him  —  a  mighty 
fine-looking  creature  she  is  —  an  actress  maybe  ;  and  she 
jabbers  away  to  him  for  an  hour,  with  him  cryin'  as  if  his 
heart  would  break,  and  she  weepin'  too.  It 's  quite  heart- 
breakin'.  But  she  hasn't  been  here  for  a  long  time  now. 
Sometimes  she  sends  the  poor  fellow  some  flowers,  or  a  book 
in  them  funny  characters,  all  black  and  three-legged  — 
a  jargon  book,  they  call  it,  and  it's  all  jargon  to  me." 

Bathsheba  still  had  a  kindly  thought  for  Baumeister. 
This  seemed  to  please  Joseph,  he  could  not  explain  why. 
Even  now,  as  he  sat  in  the  old  saw-mill,  months  after  his 
last  visit  to  the  asylum,  musing  on  it,  this  remembrance  of 
Bathsheba's  good-heartedness  comforted  him. 

He  wondered  what  she  had  done  with  all  her  fierce 
dreams  of  social  revolt  and  revolution,  and  whether  she 
would  ever  be  contented  in  her  new  career  as  an  actress. 
She  had  made  her  debut  a  few  months  after  Joseph's  libera 
tion,  and  had  achieved  only  a  modest  success.  But  she  had 
shown  great  aptitude  for  the  stage,  and  this  and  her  beauty 
had  enabled  her  to  rise  rapidly.  At  present  she  was  the 


PURIM   IN   THE   COLONY  323 

central  figure  in  a  large  company  which  purveyed  romantic 
dramas  and  religious  operas,  the  subjects  of  which  were 
invariably  taken  from  Jewish  history,  to  the  quarter  of  a 
million  Hebrews  of  all  classes  and  grades  of  prosperity  who 
inhabit  the  metropolis.  She  was  already  a  celebrity,  and 
was  gaining  ground  daily. 

Twice  only  had  Joseph  seen  Bathsheba  since  he  had  sent 
her  away,  sorrowing  and  humiliated,  from  the  prison.  He 
had  met  her  once  at  the  house  of  Mordecai  Menzer,  the 
poet,  where,  in  company  with  her  husband,  who  was  now  a 
prosperous  impresario,  she  had  come  to  consult  with  the 
poet  about  the  recitation  of  a  popular  poem  to  be  recited 
between  the  acts  of  a  drama. 

She  had  greeted  Joseph  quietly,  coldly,  and  had  made  no 
allusion  to  the  past.  He  fancied  that  to  her,  as  to  himself, 
it  seemed  as  if  a  gate  were  closed  between  that  past  and  the 
present  with  its  new  duties  and  trials.  But  when  she  gazed 
at  him  for  a  moment,  mournfully,  with  those  lustrous  eyes, 
searching  the  depths  of  his  being,  he  felt  as  strongly,  as 
irresistibly  drawn  to  her  as  of  old. 

He  took  his  hat,  mumbled  some  excuse,  and  got  away  out 
of  Mordecai's  house  as  quickly  as  he  could. 

The  second  time  was  at  David's  theatre,  when  he  was 
making  a  flying  visit  to  New  York.  She  had  come  in  to 
ask  David  for  the  loan  of  some  historical  costumes  for  a 
benefit  performance.  While  David  jested  with  her  about 
thus  aiding  his  rivals,  she  had  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on 
Joseph.  That  day  he  was  troubled  as  never  before, 
and  when  he  spoke  with  her  he  acted  like  a  man  in  a 
dream. 

David  noticed  his  abstraction,  and  when  the  beautiful 
Bathsheba  had  gone  he  said,  as  if  communing  with  him 
self,  — 

"Commit  a  sin  twice  and  it  will  not  seem  a  crime." 


324  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

The  wisdom  of  the  old  proverb  sank  deeply  into  Joseph's 
heart. 

All  these  things  passed  in  review  before  him  as  he 
worked  and  rested  alternately  in  the  saw-mill,  his  heart 
heavy  despite  his  many  reasons  for  content,  despite  the 
fact  that  the  feast  of  gladness  was  at  hand. 

Presently  one  of  the  elders  of  the  colony,  an  orthodox 
Jew  who  had  prospered  wonderfully,  and  had  housed  his 
large  family  in  one  of  the  old  farmhouses,  came  to  invite 
Joseph  and  his  wife  and  little  Zipporah  to  attend  with  him 
and  his  family  the  simple  festivities  which  they  had  ar 
ranged  for  the  evening. 

Joseph  accepted  gladly.  "I  was  but  trying  the  saw, 
Jacob,"  he  said;  "I  hope  you  don't  think  I  was  working 
seriously  on  this  good  day.  We  will  be  with  you  at 
dusk." 

Miryam  was  unusually  still  and  thoughtful  at  the  little 
home  festival  of  Purirn,  celebrated  by  the  pious  father  with 
his  numerous  family  around  him,  and  to  which  she,  with 
David,  Joseph  and  Malcha  and  Zipporah,  had  been  invited. 

Supper  was  spread  on  a  long  table  in  the  old-fashioned 
room  ;  the  wax  tapers  burned  cheerfully,  and  in  their  light 
the  red  wine  in  the  quaint  decanters  glowed. 

At  the  head  of  this  table  stood  the  father  of  the  flock, 
his  gray  hair  crowned  with  a  black  skull-cap.  Near  him 
sat  the  wife ;  on  the  right  and  on  his  left  was  a  favorite 
daughter.  Farther  down  on  either  side  were  ranged  the 
other  daughters,  and  the  family  of  a  married  son,  with  a 
flock  of  children.  The  men  wore  their  hats  and  the  striped 
prayer-garments,  and  the  women  the  veil  which  covers  the 
forehead  and  the  hair  of  the  orthodox  Jewess. 

There  was  reading  of  the  story  of  Esther,  and  of  the 
wreck  of  Haman's  plot  because  of  her  beauty  and  address  ; 
there  was  much  drinking  of  cups  of  wine ;  and  the  head  of 


PURIM   IN    THE    COLONY  325 

the  family  then  distributed  little  presents  to  each  member 
of  the  household. 

So  simple  and  patriarchal  was  this  scene  that  no  one 
could  have  beheld  it  without  pleasure.  Even  Joseph,  fond 
of  saying  that  formalism  and  tradition  were  eating  the 
heart  out  of  the  race,  felt  a  thrill  of  happiness  at  the  sound 
of  the  old  familiar  songs  of  gladness  and  the  time-worn 
passages  reciting  the  discomfiture  of  the  evil  Hainan. 

After  the  supper  the  hymns  were  sung  with  enthusiasm 
until  a  late  hour,  and  David  had  improvised  a  quaint  little 
play  not  unlike  an  old  mystery  of  the  fifteenth  century,  in 
which  all  present  took  part. 

Miryam  personated  an  angel,  and  as  she  passed  by  Joseph, 
who  had  been  detailed  to  represent  an  Assyrian  soldier  on 
guard,  and  raised  her  soulful  eyes  to  meet  his,  Joseph 
thought  that  he  had  never  seen  a  more  spiritual  and  lovely 
face. 

The  play  ended,  the  grandparents  led  out  the  little  chil 
dren  in  the  dance,  and  the  wheezy  extemporized  orches 
tra  acquitted  itself  wonderfully  of  its  difficult  task. 

The  moon  was  shining  brightly  when  the  party  dispersed ; 
and  in  the  confusion  of  leave-taking  Joseph  whispered  to 
Malcha,  "  Do  not  sit  up  for  me ;  I  am  going  to  walk  a  little 
in  the  moonshine,"  and  got  away,  as  he  thought,  quite 
unnoticed  by  any  one  else. 

He  walked  swiftly  from  the  farmhouse,  down  the  hill 
toward  the  river  and  the  saw-mill. 

Why  he  directed  his  steps  thither  he  could  not  have  told. 
He  went  as  if  pushed  by  fate. 

All  was  dark  and  silent  in  the  old  mill,  and  the  pungent, 
odors  of  the  sawed  planks  made  the  head  heavy.  Joseph 
lighted  a  bit  cf  a  candle  which  stood  on  the  edge  of  the 
sink,  and  sat  down  to  read  a  letter  which  had  been  shoved 
into  his  hand  by  the  ancient  Father  Israel,  once  joint 


326  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

lodger  with  Ben  Ziou  in  the  cellar  where  Bathsheba  had 
taken  refuge  on  the  night  of  the  tire,  but  now  removed  to 
the  colony  and  promoted  to  the  high  office  of  its  postman. 

Father  Israel,  in  giving  Joseph  the  letter,  had  confessed 
in  trembling  tones  that  he  had  got  it  from  the  post-office, 
five  miles  away,  with  numerous  others,  tea  days  ago. 
'•  But  it  slipped  into  a  hole  in  the  lining  of  my  coat, 
Joseph,"  quoth  the  old  man,  "  and  I  clean  forgot  it  until 
now.  I  hope  it  is  nothing  that  can't  wait." 

Joseph  had  not  looked  at  it  then.  But  as  he  brought  it 
under  the  light  now  a  wave  of  color  swept  into  his  face, 
and  then  receded  instantly,  leaving  him  ashy  pale. 

He  tore  open  the  missive,  and  his  hands  shook  as  he 
read.  It  was  a  curt  note  from  his  counsel,  saying  that 
his  case  had  suddenly  been  pushed  forward,  and  was  to  be 
heard  in  three  days.  As  the  Union  had  no  money,  he  must 
hasten  to  make  a  provision,  so  that  they  could  send  a  man 
to  argue  against  the  District  Attorney,  or  bad  consequences 
might  follow.  "Five  hundred  would  do,"  said  the  counsel. 

"  Five  hundred  devils  !  "  said  Joseph.  "  And  how  quietly 
he  writes  this  to  me,  when  I  have  not  five  hundred  cents  ! 
And  the  letter  is  ten  days  old.  And  as  no  one  has  been 
to  town  from  the  colony,  and  no  other  letter  has  come  to 
warn  me,  and  the  argument  has  been  made,  I  am  lost,  I 
suppose  !  But  perhaps  the  decision  is  not  given  yet. 
Surely  we  should  have  heard  "  — 

At  that  moment  Joseph's  quick  ear  detected  the  sound 
of  a  light  footfall  outside.  "  Who  can  that  be  ?  "  he  mur 
mured;  and,  opening  the  door,  he  stepped  out  into  the 
moonlight,  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with  Bathsheba. 


THE  GREAT   TEMPTATION  327 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE    GREAT    TEMPTATION 

SHE  was  very  pale ;  her  hair  was  dishevelled,  and  she 
seemed  to  be  suffering  from  extreme  fatigue.  She  did  not 
look  up  at  him,  but  kept  her  gaze  fixed  on  the  ground,  and 
seemed  abashed.  As  Joseph  approached  her,  he  fancied 
that  he  could  hear  the  loud  beating  of  her  heart. 

A  sudden  pang  seized  his  own  heart,  and  he  felt  that  she 
had  come  to  warn  him  of  impending  misfortune.  His 
breath  came  quickly  ;  the  blood  was  hot  in  his  veins ;  his 
legs  seemed  heavy  as  lead.  He  stretched  out  one  hand  with 
a  gesture  which  was  almost  imploring. 

"  Speak  !  "  he  said  huskily. 

Bathsheba  struggled  to  obey,  but  no  sound  came  from 
her  lips.  The  moonlight,  falling  full  upon  her  lovely  face, 
gave  her  an  expression  so  weird,  so  unearthly,  that  for  an 
instant  Joseph  thought  that  she  was  dying.  In  spite  of 
his  determination  not  to  do  so,  he  darted  forward,  and 
caught  her  in  his  arms. 

She  swayed  heavily  forward,  and  for  a  moment  or  two 
she  leaned  her  head  against  his  breast.  Her  splendid  hair 
was  damp  with  the  night  dews  ;  and  when  she  looked  up 
Joseph  saw  that  there  were  tears  upon  her  face.  They 
stood  apart  again,  Joseph  almost  humbly  awaiting  the 
message  of  fate  which  he  felt  sure  that  she  had  brought  to 
him.  Espying  a  huge  log,  which  had  been  hauled  up  the 


328  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

day  before  to  be  ready  for  the  sawyer,  she  went  to  it  and 
sank  wearily  down  upon  it,  saying  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  — 

«  Water ! " 

Joseph  dashed  into  the  mill,  and  soon  returned  with  a 
tin  pail  filled  with  clear  cold  water,  of  which  Bathsheba 
drank  a  little.  Then  she  wet  her  handkerchief,  and  held 
it  to  her  forehead  and  eyes.  At  last  she  said  faintly,  — 

"  I  was  burning  up.  The  fever  seemed  to  tear  me  to 
pieces.  It  is  the  impatience.  I  have  hurried  so.  And  all 
for  —  what  ?  " 

She  let  the  tin  pail  fall  at  her  feet,  the  water  trickling 
down  her  dress,  and  sat  for  a  minute  with  her  hands  folded 
in  her  lap,  and  her  eyes  gazing  into  vacancy,  like  one 
demented. 

"  How  did  you  come  here  ?  "  said  Joseph  gently.  "  How 
did  you  find  your  way  to  the  colony,  and  in  the  night  ?  " 

"I  walked,"  she  answered,  gradually  recovering  her  voice. 
"At  the  depot  I  tried  to  hire  a  team,  but  the  farmers  wouldn't 
let  me  have  one.  I  suppose  they  thought  it  was  too  much 
trouble,  and  yet  I  told  them  that  I  was  in  mortal  haste  ! 
But  they  laughed  at  me  !  So  I  walked." 

"  And  why  ?  "  timidly  asked  Joseph.  "  What  has  happened 
that  you  could  not  wait  and  come  by  day  ?  And  will  you 
not  let  me  take  you  to  Miryam,  or  to  —  Malcha  ?  You 
must  be  worn  out.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  eleven  long 
miles  from  here  to  the  depot  ?  " 

"And  if  it  were  eleven  hundred,"  said  Bathsheba,  with  a 
rising  exaltation  of  manner  which  alarmed  Joseph,  "  I 
should  not  have  felt  them  or  noticed  them.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  I  was  buoyed  up  by  celestial  wings ;  I  felt  like 
soaring  away  over  the  woods  and  streams  into  the  delicious 
moonlight.  But  I  remembered  my  purpose,  and  I  bent  my 
course  here.  It  is  nothing.  When  I  was  a  little  girl,  I 
walked  across  twenty  miles  of  snow-covered  steppe,  just 


THE   GREAT    TEMPTATION  329 

to  say  that  I  dared.  The  winds  howled,  and  so  did  the 
wolves.  But  I  did  it." 

She  arose  arid  arranged  her  falling  tresses,  and  drew  her 
loose  veil  over  her  head.  "  Joseph,"  she  said,  "  hear  me  to 
night  without  anger.  What  I  have  to  say  will  not  take 
long.  But  is  that  your  house  there  ?  If  it  is,  coine  farther 
away." 

"  No ;  it  is  an  old  saw-mill.  My  home  is  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  off.  There  is  no  one  stirring  in  the  colony  but 
us,  I  should  think,  unless  David  should  happen  to  be  making 
one  of  his  night  rounds.  When  he  can't  sleep  he  walks  in 
the  fields,  and  composes  plays  as  he  goes  along." 

"  Is  David  here  ?  "  queried  Bathsheba  breathlessly. 

"  He  is,  and  has  been  for  some  days." 

u  Ah  !  I  wondered  how  it  was  that  he  had  not  sent  you 
word  about  the  "  — 

She  paused  and  turned  away,  as  if  to  conceal  the  emotion 
which  was  betrayed  in  her  voice. 

"  About  the  what,  Bathsheba  ?  Something  has  happened, 
arid  you  are  afraid  to  tell  me !  Speak !  I  can  bear  the 
worst !  Is  it  about  the  appeal  ?  " 

Bathsheba  nodded,  and  at  the  same  moment  a  convulsive 
sob  shook  her  whole  frame.  Suddenly  she  felt  Joseph's 
hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  looked  up,  tearful,  but  with  a 
smile  of  such  divine  tenderness,  that  it  awed  him.  He  felt 
like  one  to  whom  a  great  treasure  is  offered,  and  who  knows 
that  he  has  no  right  to  accept  it.  The  angry  revolt  in  his 
soul  shook  his  whole  frame,  but  he  stood  his  ground. 

"  Listen,  Bathsheba,"  he  said :  "  tell  me  all,  and  at  once. 
I  know,  I  feel,  that  the  case  in  the  Court  of  Appeals  has 
gone  against  me.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  0  Joseph,"  said  the  woman,  turning  and  looking  up 
into  his  face,  "  it  is  true,  and  I  hurried  with  all  my  might  to 
be  here  among  the  first.  Fate  has  been  kinder  to  me  than 


330  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

I  had  dared  to  hope.  It  has  let  me  be  the  one  to  break  the 
news  to  you,  and  it  has  brought  us  together,  face  to  face, 
here  in  the  still  night,  where  no  one  can  disturb  us.  This 
is  reward  enough." 

She  uttered  these  words  in  a  deep  voice,  tremulous  with 
passion,  and  Joseph  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"  Joseph,"  she  said,  "  the  appeal  is  decided  against  you. 
The  court  of  last  resort  has  agreed  with  the  sentence  in 
Oyer  and  Terminer,  and  your  original  sentence  is  reaffirmed. 
You  must  go  to  Sing  Sing  for  twenty-one  months,  unless 
the  governor  pardons  you." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Joseph.  «  That  does  not  frighten  me. 
I  will  give  myself  up,  and  not  have  any  nonsense  about 
extradition  from  another  State.  I  would  not  have  my 
enemies  think  that  I  am  afraid  of  them." 

He  drew  himself  up,  and  paced  to  and  fro  in  the  moon 
light,  Bathsheba  watching  him  with  gleaming  eyes. 

"  The  decision  was  in  the  afternoon  papers,"  she  said. 
"  Oh,  I  have  been  watching  !  It  appears  that  the  argument 
was  made  six  or  seven  days  ago.  Everybody  wondered 
when  they  heard  about  the  argument  that  you  and  your 
friends  in  the  colony  gave  no  sign  of  life.  Freier  spread  a 
rumor  that  you  had  run  away.  Some  of  the  poor  folk  in 
the  sweaters'  hells  believed  it.  Ah,  Joseph,  they  are  help 
less  !  My  heart  bleeds  for  them  !  But  no  one  man  can 
save  them.  You  have  done  your  share." 

Joseph  stopped  short  in  his  walk,  and  looked  sharply  at 
Bathsheba. 

"  When  I  am  buried  underground,  or  at  the  bottom  of 
some  river,  I  shall  have  done  my  share  for  them  —  not 
before,"  he  said. 

"All  vain  — all  vain  !  "  cried  Bathsheba,  coming  rapidly 
to  him,  and  gesticulating  madly.  "The  sweaters  are  vic 
torious.  Fresh  thousands  of  exiles  come  in  every  week; 


THE   GREAT   TEMPTATION  331 

and  the  people  who  are  starving  must  work  on  any  terms. 
Law  is  dead,  —  at  least,  no  one  enforces  it,  —  and  the  men 
and  women  are  turned  into  miserable  slaves  !  The  greedy 
manufacturers  make  the  strong  among  the  exiles  drive  the 
weak !  The  ignorant  are  ground  down  in  this  land  of 
liberty  as  they  never  were  ground  in  the  Pale  !  And  what 
is  your  reward  for  all  your  efforts  to  bring  order  out  of  this 
hideous  chaos,  to  let  the  light  in  upon  this  festering  slave- 
market,  to  expel  the  oppressors  and  to  protect  the  helpless  ? 
What  does  a  free  land  —  a  liberty-loving  nation — give 
you  for  all  this  ?  A  prison,  and  the  name  of  a  common 
malefactor  ! " 

She  was  speaking  in  Russian  now,  and  with  a  nervous 
eloquence  which  grappled  upon  Joseph's  soul.  But  he  felt 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  throw  off  this  influence,  and  he 
said,  almost  sadly,  — 

"  Woman,  would  you  tempt  me  again  from  the  path  of 
duty  ?  Why,  if  a  hundred  thousand  prisons  lay  in  my 
road,  I  would  face  them  all  rather  than  give  up  because  I 
have  been  worsted  once  by  the  manufactures." 

"No  —  no,  Joseph,"  cried  Bathsheba  in  strange,  muf 
fled  tones,  as  if  her  emotion  were  stifling  her ;  "  don't  say 
that ! "  And,  before  he  could  stop  her,  she  had  fallen  on 
her  knees  and  clasped  her  arms  about  his  limbs.  "  Don't 
say  that !  Don't  throw  away  life  and  all  that  makes  it 
worth  living,  for  the  mad  war  for  the  working-man  !  Hear 
me,  Joseph.  I  have  thrown  everything  to  the  winds,  and 
cast  my  whole  life  on  the  hazard  of  to-night,  and  I  must 
cpeak!  Hear  me,  and  kill  me  afterwards  if  you  will." 

Joseph  struggled  to  free  himself,  but  Bathsheba  only 
clung  the  tighter ;  and  kneeling  there  in  the  moonlight, 
magnificent  and  enticing  in  her  imperial  beauty,  she  poured 
forth  her  impassioned  soul,  while  the  young  labor-leader 
listened  and  trembled. 


332  JOSEPH   ZALMOXAII 

"  Come  away  out  of  this  horrible  mesh  of  constant  toil 
and  suffering,"  she  cried.  (i  I  cannot  have  your  young  life 
broken  and  degraded  by  the  slavery  of  the  prison.  I  can 
not  bear  to  think  of  the  humiliation  which  they  will  heap 
upon  you.  O  Joseph !  Man  against  whom  I  once  thought 
to  plot  and  conspire,  you  conquered  me  by  the  magic  of 
your  earnestness,  and  now  I  am  pleading  to  draw  you  a \viiy 
from  it.  But  it  is  for  your  good.  Listen!  I  have  re 
nounced  all  for  you !  I  have  thrown  my  theatre  engage 
ments  to  the  winds ;  I  have  sent  away  the  few  things  that 
1  possess  ;  I  will  never  return  into  that  hell  of  misfortune 
and  poverty.  And  let  me  plead  with  you,  Joseph,  to  come 
away  with  me.  See  !  I  have  prepared  all  —  money  — 
Come  !  by  to-morrow  night  we  can  be  in  Canada,  and  take 
ship  to  London,  where  they  will  not  think  of  hunting  for 
us.  Come  !  I  will  be  your  slave,  and  toil  for  you  ;  but  I 
cannot  see  you  taken  and  thrust  into  prison,  and  ruined  for 
life.  See,  Joseph  !  I  implore  you  !  Do  not  spurn  me." 

Bathsheba  threw  her  head  back,  exposing  the  exquisite 
beauty  of  her  superb  throat ;  and  her  hair,  falling  in  pictu 
resque  disorder  around  her  face,  lent  a  new  charm  to  her 
powerful  and  seductive  beauty. 

Joseph  trembled  so  violently  that  he  thought  he  would 
have  fallen.  The  woman's  clinging  arms  seemed  to  burn 
into  his  flesh ;  his  brow  was  hot,  and  his  eyes  ached,  while 
strange  flashes  of  light  came  and  went  before  them. 

The  odors  of  the  calm,  silent  night  arose  around  the 
striving  pair, — the  penetrating  aroma  of  the  sawn  wood, 
the  fresh  smell  of  the  bark  on  the  old  log,  the  cool  fra 
grance  from  the  hillside  covered  with  new  forest  growtli ; 
and  they  seemed  momentarily  to  steady  Joseph's  dancing 
senses. 

Yet  he  felt  himself  yielding,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
one  more  move  of  Bathsheba's  arms,  one  more  of  those 


THE   GllEAT   TEMPTATION  333 

fiery  caresses  into  which  she  had  put  the  ardor  of  a  nature 
long  repressed,  would  force  him  to  stoop  and  take  her  in 
his  arms,  and  to  fold  her  there  forever  more,  and  to  rush 
away  madly  with  her  into  the  future,  leaving  behind  the 
cruel  present  with  its  dolorous  prospect  of  prison  and  per 
secution,  and  dull  round  of  prosaic  duties  in  the  service  of 
the  ignorant  and  the  wronged. 

One  kiss,  one  mutual  caress,  and  all  the  world  would 
melt  away,  and  they  would  live  for  each  other  alone. 

He  heard  the  sigh  of  the  night  breeze  in  a  thicket  near 
by  ;  he  felt  the  rapturous  tugging  of  Bathsheba's  appealing 
arms  ;  his  head  swam,  and  an  ineffable  delight  stole  through 
his  being.  A  long  sigh  shook  his  whole  frame,  and  he  was 
extending  his  hands  to  invite  Bathsheba  to  rise,  and  to 
be  clasped  upon  his  heart,  when  a  light  footstep  sounded 
near,  and  a  moment  later  a  lithe  little  figure  sprang  into 
the  moonlight  close  beside  him. 

It  was  Miryam. 

Bathsheba  loosened  her  imploring  hold  upon  Joseph's 
knees,  and,  crawling  away  a  few  paces,  leaned  her  head 
against  the  old  log,  and  began  to  cry  passionately. 

Joseph  stood  looking  over  Miryam's  head  into  the  moon 
lit  space  beyond,  not  knowing,  not  caring,  what  she  might 
do  or  say,  but  feeling  profoundly  thankful  that  she  had 
arrived  in  time  to  save  him  from  what  might  have  been  a 
fatal  step. 

He  was  at  first  surprised  to  see  that  the  girl  did  not 
hasten  to  Bathsheba,  and  raise  her  up  and  question  her  as 
to  why  she  had  come.  Then  it  became  apparent  to  him 
that  Miryam  had  perhaps  heard  all ;  that  Bathsheba  was 
blameworthy  because  she  had  tempted  him  to  desert  the 
path  of  duty  and  honor,  and  that  he  himself  had  wavered 
strangely.  Had  he  not  almost  yielded  ? 

Miryam  placed  her  hand  over  her  heart,  and  coughed 


334  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

slightly  once  or  twice.  A  spasm  of  pain  wrote  its  lines 
upon  her  lovely  face.  She  stood  looking  first  at  Joseph, 
then  at  Bathsheba,  as  if  she  hardly  dared  ask  what  so 
strange  an  interview,  in  so  singular  a  fashion,  could  mean 
at  such  an  hour. 

At  last  she  put  out  one  little  hand,  and  took  Joseph's 
right  hand  in  hers.  It  seemed  to  him  that  there  was  comfort 
and  safety  in  this  brave,  virginal  clasp  of  the  girl  who  had 
so  long  revered  him,  aud  who  had  now  been  made  the  un 
witting  instrument  of  saving  him. 

"  Miryam,"  he  said  softly,  as  if  he  were  afraid  of  the 
sound  of  his  own  voice,  "  Bathsheba  has  brought  me  bad 
news,  and  she  has  been  begging  me  to  take  a  course 
which  "  — 

"Bathsheba's  a  bold,  wicked  woman,"  said  the  girl,  "to 
say  what  I  heard  her  say  just  now ;  and  why  and  how  she 
should  come  here  at  such  an  hour  I  don't  know." 

She  paused  and  looked  confused,  as  if  even  the  contempla 
tion  of  Bathsheba's  boldness  were  contaminating.  "And 
why,  Reb  Joseph,  has  she  been  talking  to  you  of  prisons  and 
such  dreadful  things  ?  I  thought  all  that  was  gone  by. 
Speak !  Why  don't  you  answer  me  ?  What  has  Bathsheba 
told  you  ?  " 

"  She  has  brought  me  the  first  news  of  the  fact  that  the 
Court  of  Appeals  has  decided  against  me,  and  that  my  old 
sentence  is  still  in  effect.  And  she  is  trying  to  persuade 
me  that  it  is  not  my  duty  "  (here  Joseph  spoke  a  little 
bitterly)  "  to  go  to  State  prison  for  twenty-one  months  !  But 
I  must  go,  and  I  will." 

"  0  Reb  Joseph  !     How  terrible  !  " 

Joseph  looked  up  quickly,  for  there  was  a  peculiar  sound 
in  Miryam's  voice  which  alarmed  him. 

The  girl  was  standing  with  both  hands  now  pressed 
tightly  over  her  heart.  Suddenly,  uttering  a  faint  cry,  and 


THE   GREAT   TEMPTATION  335 

as  if  struck  down  by  the  dread  news  which  she  had  just 
heard,  she  fell  as  if  she  had  been  shot. 

With  a  moan  on  his  lips  Joseph  sprang  forward  to  raise 
her  up.  As  he  turned  her  face  to  the  moonlight  he  broke 
into  a  sob.  Little  Miryam  was  dead. 

She  had  died  instantly  of  heart-pang. 

Then  arose  before  Joseph  the  vision  of  the  fateful  day 
when  he  was  attacked  by  the  ignorant  members  of  the 
"  party  of  force,"  to  which  Bathsheba  had  herself  belonged, 
and  he  saw  the  valiant  maiden  throwing  herself  in  front  of 
him  to  shield  him  from  the  missiles,  one  of  which  had 
struck  her  full  in  the  breast.  It  was  that  cruel  missile 
which  had  been  the  begetter  of  the  heart-pang  which  had 
now  stretched  Miryam  dead  at  his  feet  —  between  him  and 
the  woman  to  whose  seductive  wiles  he  had  almost 
yielded. 

Miryam  had  died  for  him  — to  save  him  from  Bathsheba 
—  to  preserve  him  for  his  duty,  and,  if  need  be,  his  martyr 
dom. 

A  great  rage  arose  in  his  heart  against  Bathsheba. 

He  laid  Miryam  gently  down  upon  the  ground,  and  going 
to  the  sobbing  woman  he  took  her  roughly  by  the  wrist. 

"  Rise  np,"  he  said,  "  and  look  upon  your  work  !  " 

Tremblingly  Bathsheba  obeyed.  She  gazed  at  Miryam 
without  asking  a  question.  And  she  went  on  sobbing  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 

"  Good  God !  woman,  don't  you  care  ?  Have  you  no 
remorse  ?  "  he  cried. 

Bathsheba  bowed  her  head. 

"  Now  go,  and  never  let  me  see  you  again.  Go  back  to 
your  work,  and  forget  all  the  foolish  things  which  you 
have  said.  I  shall  be  in  New  York  soon  to  give  myself 
up.  But  let  none  of  your  sort  of  people  come  across  my 
path." 


336  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

The  woman  stretched  out  her  hands  with  a  gesture  of 
appeal  or  of  regret.  Joseph  was  too  deeply  stirred  to  dis 
tinguish  which  it  was. 

"  Go  !  "  he  said  in  a  terrible  voice. 

Bathsheba  went  to  the  log  where  her  veil  was  lying,  took 
it  up,  put  it  on,  and  departed  with  slow  and  measured  steps, 
like  one  carrying  a  heavy  burden. 

And  now  Joseph  remembered  that  the  woman  had  trav 
elled  eleven  miles  on  foot  that  evening  in  pursuit  of  her 
reckless  and  criminal  mission,  and  that  she  was  probably 
fainting  for  food.  What  if  she  should  fall  and  perish  by 
the  way  ?  His  heart  was  all  at  once  filled  with  great  com- 
passion  for  her ;  he  was  sorry  that  he  had  spoken  so  harshly. 

He  strode  after  her,  and  touched  her  gently.  She  turned, 
trembling,  as  if  expecting  him  to  strike  her  down. 

"  I  was  a  brute  ! "  said  Joseph.  "  I  drove  you  away 
hungry  and  exhausted.  Forgive  me  !  Come  to  my  house, 
and  Malcha  will  give  you  food  and  a  place  to  sleep." 

"  Your  wife  ?  "  said  Bathsheba  with  a  strange  look.  "  No, 
really,  it  would  be  asking  too  much.  I  have  bread  and 
meat  in  my  pocket." 

She  held  up  a  little  package.  "  Don't  worry  about  me." 
And  she  turned  and  began  walking  off  again  in  the  same 
slow,  heavy  way. 

"  But  it  is  not  wise  that  you  should  go,  now  Miryam  is 
dead,"  said  Joseph,  wringing  his  hands ;  "  and  you  must 
remain  here  to  testify  as  to  the  manner  of  her  death." 

"Dead!  Miryam!"  and  Bathsheba  uttered  a  shriek 
which  rang  through  the  still,  cool  night  and  seemed  to 
go  mounting  up  into  the  stars.  "  Dead  !  The  beautiful 
child ! " 

She  rushed  back  to  the  place  where  the  girl  was  lying, 
white  and  calm,  and,  kneeling  near  her,  burst  into  low, 
passionate  wailing. 


THE   GREAT   TEMPTATION  33T 

A  minute  or  two  later  David  came  up  from  the  river- 
bank  by  a  little  path  which  led  around  the  mill.  He  was 
musing  as  he  pursued  his  midnight  walk,  and  it  was  not 
until  he  was  within  a  few  yards  of  the  group  that  he  heard 
Bathsheba's  lamentations  and  saw  the  little  group. 

He  sprang  forward  and  seized  Bathsheba's  head  in  his 
hands,  bent  it  back,  and  gazed  into  her  face. 

"  You  here  ! "  he  said.     "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

Bathsheba  pointed  to  the  body  of  Miryam,  which  lay  a 
little  in  the  shadow.  David  uttered  a  scream  like  that  of 
a  parent  who  sees  his  child  struck  dead  before  his  eyes. 

Then  he  beat  his  breast,  and  Bathsheba's  head,  released 
from  his  grasp,  fell  forward  as  if  she  were  dead  like 
Miryam. 

"  She  is  gone  —  she  is  dead  !  "  murmured  Bathsheba. 
"  I  came  here  to  bring  Joseph  the  dreadful  news  that  the 
appeal  is  rejected,  and  that  he  must  go  to  prison.  Miryam 
came  and  heard,  and  she  fell  down  —  straight  down. 
0  Reb  David !  Can  it  be  possible  that  she  is  dead  ?  " 

"The  cruel  news  killed  her,  my  pure,  my  sweet,  my 
darling  one  !  "  said  David,  communing  with  himself.  He 
put  out  one  hand  and  brushed  Bathsheba  aside ;  a  moment 
later  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten  her  existence. 

Then  he  took  Miryam  in  his  arms,  and,  rising  slowly  and 
painfully  from  the  kneeling  posture  into  which  he  had 
thrown  himself  to  examine  her  features,  he  moved  away 
toward  his  house,  repeating  brokenly  the  words  of  the  old 
saying  of  the  wise  rabbi,  which  he  had  been  heard  to  quote 
many  times  :  — 

"  Life  is  a  passing  shadow.  The  shadow  of  a  tower  or  a 
tree;  the  shadow  which  prevails  for  a  time  ?  No;  even  as 
the  shadow  of  a  bird  in  its  flight,  it  passeth  from  our  sight, 
and  neither  bird  nor  shadow  remain^." 

"  Come  ! "  said  Joseph  to  Bathsheba.     "  Here  is  tragedy 


338  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

enough  for  one  night.  Are  you  going  back  to  the  depot, 
or  shall  I  find  you  a  place  to  rest  ?  " 

He  spoke  like  one  heavy  with  sleep,  or  dazed  with 
excitement. 

B^thsheba  sprang  up  with  nervous  energy. 

';  I  am  going,"  she  said.  "  Perhaps  you  will  think  of 
me  wh,en  you  are  growing  gray  and  old  before  your  time 
in  that  hell  of  a  prison.  Perhaps  you  will  see  my  face  in 
your  dreams.  I  feel  almost  certain  that  you  will." 

She  paused,  and  looked  intently  at  him.  Joseph  seemed 
to  feel  the  solid  ground  giving  way  beneath  his  feet. 

"  0  God  ! "  he  cried,  suddenly  raising  his  arms  and  turn 
ing  his  face  upward,  "judge  Thou  between  this  woman 
and  me.  Set  my  feet  in  the  right  track,  and  hold  them 
there,  or  I  am  lost ! " 

Bathsheba  gazed  still  more  sharply  at  him.  At  last  she 
burst  into  a  shrill  laugh  ;  then  she  snapped  her  fingers  in 
the  air,  and  whirling  around  went  off  at  a  swift  pace. 

But  when  she  was  well  out  of  sight  of  Joseph  and  the 
mill  she  fell  down  in  a  swoon,  from  which  she  did  not 
awaken  for  a  long  time.  After  her  senses  came  back  she 
sat  by  the  roadside,  ill  and  confused,  until  sunrise. 

A  passing  farmer  gave  her  a  ride  in  his  ox-cart,  and  she 
reached  the  depot  in  time  to  climb  into  a  slow  train  for 
New  York. 

It  was  evening  when  she  once  more  saw  the  lights  of  the 
great  city.  As  she  set  foot  on  its  pavement  she  remem 
bered  that,  in  her  mad  departure,  she  had  given  up  all  her 
engagements,  and  had  written  a  letter  to  her  husband,  who 
was  in  a  neighboring  city,  to  say  that  he  need  never  ex 
pect  to  see  her  more. 

Nevertheless  she  dragged  her  weary  limbs  back  to  her 
old  lodgings.  To  her  surprise  her  husband  was  there,  with 
a  smile  on  his  lips. 


THE   GREAT   TEMPTATION  339 

"  Been  having  the  tantrums,  I  hear  ! "  he  said.  "  That's 
what  comes  of  studying  too  hard  for  your  stage  business. 
Oh,  eome  in  and  rest,  and  you'll  be  all  right  again.  What 
have  you  done  with  your  trunks  ?  " 

She  did  not  dare  to  tell  him  that  she  had  sent  them  to  a 
city  near  by,  there  to  await  her  orders  after  her  flight. 

"  I  suppose  you  had  110  real  intention  of  running  away," 
said  the  dark-faced  tiddler,  lighting  a  cigarette.  "  Just  a 
tantrum,  so  old  Frume,  your  dresser  at  the  theatre,  said. 
Running  away  wouldn't  do  with  me,  you  know.  I'd  run 
after  you  and  bring  you  back.  You're  too  valuable  to 
lose." 

.Bathsheba  sat  down.     She  shivered  and  closed  her  eyes. 

"  By  the  way,  there's  bad  news  about  an  acquaintance  of 
ours  —  that  Joseph  —  the  labor-man,  you  know,"  continued 
her  husband.  "The  cloakmakers  are  full  of  the  news 
to-night.  It  seems  that  he's  got  to  go  up  the  river,  after 
all.  He'll  be  badly  broken  up,  won't  he  ?  Mordecai  will 
have  to  make  up  a  new  ballad  about  him,  he,  he,  he !  The 
sweaters  are  still  ahead,  aren't  they,  now  ?  " 

"  He  wasn't  practical,"  said  Bathsheba.  "  Such  men 
always  come  to  grief.  Don't  talk  to  me  any  more  just 
now,  there's  a  good  fellow.  I'm  going  to  lie  down.  I  feel 
chilly." 


340  JOSEPH    ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

CARRYING    THE    CROSS 

IT  was  morning,  and  the  sun  shone  in  a  sky  of  crystal 
blue.  Here  and  there  fleecy  clouds  sailed  swiftly  forward, 
evanescent  and  exquisite  as  mist-wreaths  around  a  moun 
tain  peak.  The  moist  woodland  exhaled  fragrant  odovs  ; 
and  in  the  edges  of  the  thickets  the  squirrels  frolicked 
with  apprehensive  air,  as  if  certain  that  this  mid-winter 
mildness  would  soon  be  followed  by  snow  and  cutting 
blasts. 

Joseph  came  out  upon  a  headland,  and  paused  to  enjoy 
the  majestic  spectacle  of  the  blue  and  smooth  waters  of 
Long  Island  Sound  spread  far  below.  Never  before  had 
this  serene  and  beautiful  countryside,  with  its  picturesque 
coast,  with  innumerous  miniature  bluffs,  with  caverns,  with 
promontories,  with  islets  in  the  softly  moving  water, 
seemed  so  beautiful  as  now. 

A  tiny  sail  was  fluttering  around  a  distant  point,  and  the 
fleck  of  white  awoke  a  sudden  longing  in  Joseph's  heart. 
O  to  tear  himself  now  and  forever  from  the  dull  and 
pestilential  orbit  of  the  existence  in  which  his  lot  had  been 
cast !  0  to  seek  some  unknown  and  slumberous  land  where 
life  was  poetry  and  the  struggle  for  bread  never  intruded 
itself  upon  human  attention  ! 

The  intensity  of  his  longing  at  that  moment,  with  the 
sordid  and  wretched  mockery  of  his  bounded  life  stinging 


CARRYING  THE  CROSS  341 

him,  and  the  gray  walls  of  the  prison  rising,  a  dismal 
vision,  iu  front  of  him,  was  so  great  that  his  eyeballs 
were  strained  until  his  vision  became  indistinct,  and  his 
finger-nails  were  imbedded  in  the  flesh  of  his  palms. 

And  with  this  longing  came  the  vision  of  a  lovely,  even 
a  sensuous  face,  filled  with  the  mysterious  and  indefinable 
languor  of  the  Russian  type  —  touched  with  a  tender 
grace  of  Orientalism  borrowed  from  Semitic  origin.  It 
hovered  before  him  in  the  luminous  air;  its  bewitching 
gaze  seemed  to  lure  him  on  to  fields  which  he  had  not  yet 
trod. 

Was  it  Bathsheba's  face  —  etherealized,  transfigured  ? 
He  dared  not  answer  this  question.  When  he  closed  his 
eyes  the  vision  came  nearer,  was  more  provoking,  sweeter, 
maddening. 

Thus  were  the  saints  of  old  tortured  by  the  visions  born 
of  those  longings  which  they  were  victoriously  treading 
underfoot. 

Joseph  was  on  his  way  to  the  office  of  his  counsel  in 
New  York,  to  deliver  himself  up.  After  the  wild  emotions 
through  which  he  had  passed  in  the  last  two  days,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  was  all  at  once  many  years  older. 
The  colony  life  lay  behind  him  in  a  kind  of  haze,  as  if  it 
were  an  experience  of  long  ago. 

He  had  agreed  with  David  that  nothing  was  to  be  said  to 
Malcha  and  the  others  of  Bathsheba's  mad  visit  and  mad 
der  proposal ;  but  he  had  told  David  all,  not  even  conceal 
ing  any  smallest  detail  which  tended  to  inculpate  himself. 

The  testimony  of  the  two  men  as  to  Miryam's  sudden 
death  from  heart-pang,  "  while  she  was  talking  to  Joseph," 
was  unquestioningly  accepted  by  the  members  of  the  little 
colony,  every  person  in  which  revered  them  both.  All 
night  the  Jewish  wail  of  mourning  was  heard  in  the  farm 
houses,  for  Miryam  had  been  dear  to  all. 


342  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

Joseph  thought  it  best  to  keep  his  bad  news  from  all  but 
Malcha,  during  the  day  following  Bathsheba's  visit  and 
Miryain's  death,  and  to  go  away  quietly  in  the  night.  The 
colony  would  know  soon  enough,  and  at  present  he  did  not 
feel  that  he  could  support  the  anguish  of  a  general  leave- 
taking.  David  knew,  and  Malcha  knew,  and  they  could 
mourn  in  silence  with  him. 

But  in  little  Malcha's  resolution  Joseph  found  exceed 
ing  comfort.  "  We  will  work  night  and  day  to  secure  a 
pardon  from  the  governor,"  she  said;  "and  we  shall  have 
a  home  here  when  we  need  it.  So  why  worry  about  us  ?  " 

"  A  pardon  —  for  a  man  who  has  committed  no  crime ! " 
said  Joseph  disdainfully;  and  his  whole  soul  rebelled 
against  this  idea. 

But  David  and  Malcha  persuaded  him.  And  he  did  not 
suspect,  as  he  kissed  the  sleeping  Zipporah  and  parted  with 
Malcha,  to  start  upon  his  journey,  that  ere  he  was  out  of 
sight  she  would  fall  down  in  a  swoon,  from  which  David 
with  all  his  arts  could  with  difficulty  arouse  her. 

When  she  recovered  she  was  brave,  and  all  day  she  went 
about  superintending  the  preparations  forMiryam's  funeral, 
and  carrying  her  sad  secret  locked  within  her  breast. 
"  Joseph  had  been  called  to  the  city  on  business  about  the 
Union."  That  was  all  that  she  could  be  induced  to  say, 
and  fortunately  no  news  came  from  the  great  city.  What 
would  have  been  her  anguish  had  she  known  with  what 
phantoms  her  heroic  husband  was  struggling  on  the  way, 
and  how,  at  times,  he  seemed  tempted  out  of  the  path  of 
duty  and  honor ! 

Joseph  left  the  headland,  and  walked  briskly  along  the 
highway,  which  here  and  there  ran  beside  the  water.  Once 
or  twice  the  thought  came  to  him  :  A  plunge  into  the  blue 
waters  would  end  all  your  cares.  Why  prolong  life  in 
which  there  is  so  little  to  get  and  so  much  to  suffer  —  in 


CARRYING   THE  CROSS  343 

which  the  vain,  the  mediocre,  and  the  mean  prosper  and 
grow  fat,  and  the  unselfish  are  plucked  and  tortured  ?  One 
cool  plunge  ! 

But  presently  he  brushed  away  these  suggestions  as 
unmanly ;  and,  as  he  hastened  on  toward  the  depot,  the  vis 
ions  left  him.  His  spirit  became  calmer, 

A  farmer  who  knew  him  by  sight  met  him  on  the  road. 
"  Fine  day,  Mist'  Zalmonah.  Goin'  to  taowu  ?  "  said  the 
rustic  cheerily,  and  nodding  a  hearty  salute. 

Joseph  looked  at  the  man  in  astonishment.  Had  he  not 
heard  ?  did  he  not  know  ?  And  then  there  drifted  in  upon 
him  the  feeling  that  he  was  but  a  speck,  a  mote  in  the  uni 
verse  ;  and  that  his  small  sorrows,  his  ridiculous  anguish 
and  sense  of  injustice,  were  of  trifling  consequence  in  the 
world.  There  was  a  kind  of  rude  comfort  in  this  feeling. 

He  answered  the  farmer  with  a  hearty,  "Yes;  a  little 
visit  to  New  York,"  and  went  on,  and  on,  and  on  toward 
his  prison. 

When  he  reached  the  depot  he  learned  that  the  train  was 
an  hour  late.  He  sent  off  a  despatch  to  his  counsel,  saying, 
"  I  will  be  in  your  office  before  dark  :  make  such  arrange 
ments  as  you  think  proper."  Spelling  the  words  correctly 
in  English  occupied  some  little  time  :  he  took  out  his 
pocket  dictionary  and  consulted  it. 

He  was  surprised  at  his  own  calmness.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  he  was  really  at  last  enjoying  the  work  of  giving 
himself  up. 

By  and  by  the  train  from  New  York  came,  fuming  and 
snorting  and  bell-ringing,  up  to  the  wooden  platform. 
Joseph  stood  listlessly  studying  the  faces  of  the  passen 
gers. 

But  suddenly  he  gave  a  shout,  and  hastened  forward  to 
meet  a  little  man  dressed  in  clothes  much  too  large  for  him, 
and  carrying  a  bundle  done  up  in  a  mysterious  cloth  wrap- 


344  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

per,  which  appeared  as  if  it  might  once  have  been  the  flag 
of  a  merchant  vessel. 

"  Ben  Zion ! "  cried  Joseph,  and  he  fairly  hugged  the 
small  pedler  in  the  exuberance  of  his  gladness  at  having 
one  sympathetic  soul  to  make  the  return  journey  with  him. 

The  pedler  looked  up  at  Joseph,  and  two  big  tears  rolled 
down  his  cheeks.  But  they  curiously  belied  the  angry 
expression  which  made  his  red  hair  more  bristly  than  usual, 
and  his  mouth  disclose  a  range  of  teeth  which  seemed  anx 
ious  to  snap  at  somebody. 

"Reb  Joseph !  alive  and  well,  and  by  the  bones  of  Abra 
ham  !  in  spite  of  all  these  dreadful  things,  still  the  strongest 
of  all  us  poor  leaders  !  Well,  well,  this  is  a  meeting,  as  the 
wolves  said  when  they  met  the  emperor;  and  at  such  a 
time  !  "  And  he  laid  down  the  bundle  and  shook  Joseph's 
two  hands  until  they  ached. 

Although  Joseph  was  little  in  the  humor  for  laughter,  lie 
could  not  help  smiling  at  the  quaint  figure  of  the  pedler, 
and  at  the  almost  reverential  way  in  which  Ben  Zion  scru 
tinized  his  face. 

"  And  where  were  you  going,  Ben  Zion  ?  "  he  said. 

"Where  else,  Reb  Joseph,  but  to  your  colony,  to  get 
every  member  of  it  except  yourself  to  sign  my  petition. " 
And  he  pointed  down  to  the  bundle,  adding  quickly,  with  a 
tremor  in  his  voice,  — 

"  I  suppose  you  have  heard  the  bad  news.  They  said 
among  the  sweaters  that  you  had  run  away,  but  they 
couldn't  make  us  leaders  believe  that." 

Ben  Zion  still  cherished  the  belief  that  he  was  an  effect 
ive  labor-leader,  and  that  without  his  valuable  services  the 
work  of  Joseph  could  not  have  been  brought  to  fruition. 

"  I  have  heard  that  I  have  to  go  back  to  prison,  if  that  is 
what  you  mean.  But  I  wonder  that  some  one  from  the 
Union  had  not  come  sooner  to  let  me  know.  The  lawver's 


CARRYING  THE   CROSS  345 

letter  was  not  given  to  nie  until  it  was  too  late  to  do  any 
thing." 

"  Ah  !  now  that  explains  things,"  said  Ben  Zion,  his  brow 
clearing  up.  "  The  lawyer  said  he  heard  that  you  had  gone 
away  somewhere,  and  then  the  little  dark-faced  fiddler — he 
was  spreading  stories  last  night,  so  I  was  told  "  — 

"  Stories  !  What  stories  ?  "  said  Joseph  with  a  sudden 
harshness  in  his  voice. 

"  Well,  it  seems  that  Bathsheba  has  been  having  fits,  and 
that  all  of  a  sudden  she  stopped  acting  at  the  theatre,  and 
sold  a  lot  of  her  costumes.  Then  one  day,  when  she 
thought  her  husband  would  be  gone  for  some  days,  she 
packed  everything  off,  and  left  him  a  letter  telling  him  not 
to  count  on  her  any  more,  and  that  she  was  going  away  off 
where  he  would  never  hear  of  her.  But  it  seems  that  the 
fiddler  was  jealous  of  her,  and  that  he  had  been  watching 
her  for  some  days,  as  the  bear  watched  the  bees,  getting  lit 
tle  but  stings  for  his  pains.  He  had  her  followed,  and  the 
spy  comes  back  and  says  that  she  bought  a  ticket  for  this 
station.  '  Why,  that's  the  station  for  Joseph's  colony,' 
says  the  fiddler,  and  he  goes  and  spreads  it  around  that 
Bathsheba  has  perhaps  gone  away  with  you,  and  that 
neither  of  you  will  ever  be  heard  of  again"  — 

"  The  liar  !  " 

"  Agreed !  "  said  Ben  Zion.  "  But  just  wait  until  I  put 
my  paws  on  him,  as  the  bear  said  of  the  fish  that  was  mak 
ing  faces  at  him  in  the  water.  And  nobody  knows  where 
that  crazy  Bathsheba  is  now.  Heigh  ho  !  She's  travelling 
fast  on  the  road  that  Baumeister  's  at  the  end  of." 

Joseph  shuddered.  But  what  did  it  matter  to  him  ? 
Would  he  not  in  a  few  hours  be  shut  out  from  the  world  ? 
What  did  anything  matter  now  ? 

'•'  And  now,  Reb  Joseph,  are  you  really  going  back  ?  No  — 
there  !  I  thought  never  to  ask  you  such  a  question.  You'll 


346  JOSEPH   ZALMONAII 

have  a  few  bad  days  among  those  cut-throats.  But  the  gov 
ernor  can't  refuse  our  petition.  What  do  you  think  of 
this  ?  " 

And  plunging  down  into  his  bundle  he  drew  forth  a  vast 
roll  of  paper,  scribbled  all  over  with  Russian  and  Hebrew 
characters,  interspersed  here  and  there  with  English  and 
German.  "  Won't  that  make  his  Excellency's  eyes  dance  ?  " 

"  They  will  not  pardon  me,"  said  Joseph  a  little  bitterly. 
"  Freier  and  all  the  others  will  go  up  there  to  the  governor's 
mansion  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  and  tell  him  that  the  holy 
cause  of  capital  is  in  danger  from  such  rascals  as  I  am  ;  and 
they  will  make  me  take  my  medicine,  as  they  say  in  the 
f  Tombs.'  Let  us  say  no  more  about  it  just  now,  for  they 
say  the  train  is  coming." 

On  the  way  back  to  New  York,  Ben-Zion  unfolded  the 
plan  of  Joseph's  friends,  and  showed  him  that  a  formidable 
effort,  in  which  the  American  press  and  public  of  the  great 
city  had  interested  itself,  was  on  foot  to  obtain  his  pardon. 
"  Your  name  is  in  every  paper,  Joseph :  you  are  a  great 
man,"  said  the  little  pedler  with  unction. 

They  had  taken  an  earlier  train  than  that  by  which  Bath- 
sheba  had  travelled  on  the  preceding  day,  and  they  arrived 
in  New  York  toward  four  in  the  afternoon. 

"  Leave  me  now,  Ben  Zion  ! "  said  Joseph,  surprised  that 
no  officers  were  on  hand  at  the  station  to  seize  him ;  '-and 
bring  the  people  of  the  Union  to  meet  me  at  the  lawyer's 
office  in  an  hour  and  a  half." 

Ben  Zion  looked  wonderingly  at  him.  "Don't  be  afraid," 
Joseph  said.  "  Have  I  not  told  you  that  I  will  be  there  ? 
By  the  way,  could  you  find  that  poor  Shiphrah,  and  bring 
her  to  me  there  ?  I  have  a  message  from  Malcha  to  deliver 
to  her,  and  they  may  be  sending  me  up  the  river  at  any 
time." 

"  Shiphrah  !  "  stammered  Ben  Zion.     "  I  found  out  where 


CARRYING    THE   CROSS  347 

she  is,  but  they  have  been  having  typhus-fever  down  there 
lately.  They  say  the  dead  are  piled  up  very  thick  in  the 
sweaters'  tenements.  I  wouldn't  like  to  go  in  there  just 
now,  Reb  Joseph,  unless  "  — 

"Never  mind,  Ben  Zion."  And  a  picture  arose  in 
Joseph's  memory  of  the  horrible  scenes  which  he  had  seen 
among  the  wretched  operatives  in  a  "  typhus  ward."  Mis 
ery  !  misery  !  Ever  the  same  refrain.  Typhus  —  the  hun 
ger  fever,  born  of  the  crushing  work,  the  insufficient 
nourishment,  —  sometimes  the  total  lack  of  it  for  days, — the 
foul  air  and  the  promiscuity  of  the  tenements  turned  into 
forcing-houses.  The  Sweaters'  Hell !  Would  it  never  be 
swept  out  of  existence  ?  Was  there  any  excuse  for  its  tol 
eration  in  this  new  land  of  plenty,  where  fortunes  were 
made  in  a  single  year,  arid  where  labor  could  think  and  say 
whatever  it  pleased  ?  Was  there  not  a  Sweaters'  Hell  in 
more  than  one  of  the  great  American  cities  ?  What  had 
these  poor  exiles  done  that  they  should  be  compelled  to 
starve  and  freeze  in  winter,  and  starve  and  roast  in  summer, 
and  to  become  the  prey  of  typhus  when  their  puny  frames 
.were  exhausted  ?  Who  could  save  them  ?  Would  their 
cry  for  help  be  heard,  or  must  they  go  down  in  the  great 
waters  of  misery,  spurned  and  buffeted,  as  relentless  Nature 
has  spurned  and  buffeted  the  weak  since  Time  began  ? 

"No,  Ben  Zion,  never  mind  seeing  Shiphrah  to-night. 
We  can  send  a  letter  to  her  perhaps.  Meet  me  in  an  hour 
and  a  half  with  the  others.  Be  punctual." 

The  pedler  trotted  off  with  his  petition  bundle  under 
his  arm,  and  Joseph  began  to  walk  leisurely  down  town. 
There  was  a  bitter  pleasure  in  this  last  walk  before  the 
brand  of  the  convicted  criminal  would  be  finally  placed 
upon  him.  Each  commonplace  sight  and  sound  had  a  new 
and  unusual  charm  for  him. 

He  went  along  Park  Avenue,  gazing  at  the  spacious  man- 


348  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

sions  with  their  huge  entrances ;  at  the  elegant  streets 
crossing  the  avenue,  each  with  its  rows  of  palatial  houses. 
He  peeped  into  a  trim  coupe  in  which  two  beautiful  girls 
were  chatting  and  laughing,  and  he  nodded  pleasantly  to  a 
man  carrying  a  heavy  bundle  who  jostled  him  and  said, 
"Excuse  me." 

Presently  he  came  to  the  brow  of  the  hill ;  and  there  he 
met  a  procession  of  small  Italian  children,  under  the  guid 
ance  of  a  sweet-faced  woman,  who  had  apparently  been 
taking  them  for  an  airing  on  some  "saint's  day." 

The  little  girls,  with  their  neatly  braided  hair,  and  the 
boys,  with  their  dreamy,  poetic  faces ;  the  musical  prattle  of 
pupils  and  teachers,  and  the  air  of  contentment  and  security 
which  pervaded  the  whole  procession,  seemed  to  touch 
some  fountain  of  regret  and  longing  in  Joseph's  heroic 
bosom. 

He  thought  of  his  own  child,  from  whom  he  must  now 
be  separated  so  cruelly  for  so  long  a  time,  and  his  eyes 
grew  dim.  A  terrible  tearing  pain  seized  his  heart ;  it  was 
as  if  some  dread  power  were  wrenching  it  from  his  breast. 

He  turned  to  look  at  the  children  again  and  again  —  at 
their  happy  faces  and  their  pretty  dress.  And  he  mur 
mured,  "  Our  people  will  be  like  that  some  day  —  when  I 
have  suffered  enough  for  them." 

He  took  up  his  cross  and  went  on. 

When  Joseph  reached  the  vicinity  of  his  counsel's  office, 
which  was  in  a  shabby  building  near  the  "Tombs,"  he  saw  a 
great  crowd  surging  back  and  forth  in  obedience  to  the  im 
perative  waving  of  policemen's  clubs. 

He  knew  at  once  that  his  telegram  must  have  scattered 
the  news  of  his  arrival  through  the  cloakmakers'  quarter, 
since  Ben  Zion  had  told  him  that  some  one  went  to  the 
lawyer's  office  daily  from  the  Union;  and  his  heart  beat 


CARRYING  THE  CROSS  349 

tumultuously  at  the  pleasant  assurance  that  he  was  not 
entirely  forgotten. 

A  few  steps  farther,  and  he  felt  a  friendly  grasp  upon 
his  arm.  A  well-remembered  voice  greeted  him;  an  old 
woman  seized  his  hand  and  kissed  it.  His  cheeks  were 
aflame  now ;  he  held  his  head  up,  and  his  spirits  revived 
when  he  heard  voices  crying  all  around  him  in  the  rugged 
jargon,  "Keep  up,  Joseph!  Keep  up!  We  will  pull  you 
through,  and  you  will  beat  the  sweaters  yet." 

And  so  perhaps  he  might!  Who  knew  what  strange 
happiness  Fate  might  not  have  in  store  for  him  ? 

"  He  run  away  ! "  said  another  voice.  "  Never  !  The  very 
idea  was  foolish.  Of  course  it  was  one  of  Freier's  lies. 
He  will  be  out  and  tree  old  Freier,  as  the  moujik  treed  the 
bear,  before  Passover  comes.  What  was  that  lie  about  the 
actress  ?  Of  course  it  was  all  Freier's  work !  We'll  pull 
that  old  devil  to  pieces  yet !  They  say  the  governor  has 
Joseph's  pardon  all  made  out,  but  that  the  sweaters  are 
using  plenty  of  influence  against  it.  What  luck  that  where 
they're  going  after  death  it'll  be  hot  enough  to  make  them 
sweat  a  little  !  "  And  then  came  a  confused  and  growing 
roar,  which  finally  broke  into  something  very  like  a  cheer, 
as  Joseph  entered  the  lawyer's  office. 

He  found  his  counsel  in  great  good-humor,  and  ready  to 
wager  large  sums  that  Joseph  "  would  be  free  in  two  or 
three  days."  But  the  young  labor-leader's  slight  experience 
of  prison  routine  made  him  less  sanguine.  He  listened 
gravely  to  the  recital  of  the  efforts  in  progress  on  his  be 
half  ;  and  when  he  found  that  his  fight  had  raised  up  for 
him  friends  in  many  an  unexpected  quarter,  he  felt  pro 
foundly  calm. 

And  now  came  Ben  Zion  and  the  officers  of  the  Union, 
puffing  and  blowing  with  haste  and  excitement,  and  there 
were  hundreds  of  messages  and  dozens  of  handshakings ;  and 


350  JOSEPH  ZALMONAH 

just  as  a  lynx-eyed  man  strolled  in  and  remarked  politely, 
"  Mr.  Zalmonah,  I  understand  you've  come  to  surrender," 
and  Joseph  had  answered,  "Certainly  ;  I  don't  wish  to  put 
the  State  to  any  trouble,"  Ben  Zion  whispered, — 

"  I  couldn't  find  any  one  who  had  seen  Shiphrah  lately. 
But  who  should  I  meet  but  the  little  dark-faced  fiddler, 
as  I  was  hurrying  off  to  the  Union  ;  and  after  he  had  abused 
you,  and  said  he  hoped  they'd  set  you  to  breaking  stone  up 
the  river,  he  let  me  know  that  he  was  going  to  meet  Shiph 
rah  this  very  afternoon,  as  she  had  been  doing  some  work 
for  Bathsheba,  and  he  had  to  fetch  it.  So  I  asked  him  to 
tell  her  to  come  and  see  me  in  the  market  to-morrow,  and 
he  grinned  and  said  he  would.  Bah  !  he  made  me  feel 
crawly,  but  I  think  he'll  give  the  message,  because  it  will 
offer  him  a  chance  to  abuse  you  to  Shiphrah.  Yet  he  used 
to  say  that  you  were  a  hero  !  " 

"  This  way,  Mr.  Zalmonah,"  said  the  lynx-eyed  man  ;  and 
Joseph  now  had  a  confused  notion  that  he  was  elbowed 
through  the  crowd,  then  hurried  sharply  to  the  right,  into 
the  "Tombs"  prison,  along  a  dark  and  narrow  passage  — 
and  at  last  he  realized  that  he  had  once  more  left  the  world 
behind  him. 

An  hour  later  he  was  in  the  closely  guarded,  triply  locked 
and  barred  section  where  the  men  under  sentence  were 
crowded  together. 

A  keeper  sat  in  a  high  seat  close  by  a  railing  which 
would  have  resisted  the  shock  of  a  thousand  men.  Two 
rows  of  cells,  one  above  another  on  either  side,  were  open, 
and  the  men  who  at  night  were  locked  in  them  were  now 
walking  up  and  down.  Joseph  thought  of  the  wolf  which 
he  had  once  kept  in  a  cage  in  Russia,  as  he  saw  them  pa 
cing  fiercely,  and  muttering  to  themselves.  A  nameless 
terror  awoke  in  him  as  he  scanned  the  faces  of  these 
men. 


CARRYING   THE   CROSS  351 

He  leaned  against  the  perpendicular  bars  of  the  railing, 
and  ventured  to  ask  the  keeper  who  they  were. 

"  Good  many  on  'em's  waitin'  execution,"  said  the  keeper 
carelessly.  "  Some's  on  stays  ;  some's  to  be  moved  up  river 
soon.  Got  your  stay  yet  ?  "  he  added  not  unkindly. 

"  N-no  —  I  don't  think  so  —  in  fact,  I  don't  know  what  it 
is,"  answered  Joseph,  who  was  trembling  violently  now, 
and  was  compelled  to  cling  to  the  railing  for  support.  Mur 
derers  !  He  was  surrounded  by  murderers  !  And  these  were 
his  companions  now  —  and  perhaps  for  a  long  time  to 
come.  Surely  Freierhad  triumphed,  and  the  Sweaters'  Hell 
would  never  be  swept  out  of  existence  ! 

There  was  one  young  man  with  dark,  handsome  features 
and  fine,  bold  carriage,  walking  to  and  fro,  smoking  a  cigar 
ette,  and  now  and  then  stamping  with  one  foot,  as  if  in 
vexation.  An  unearthly  and  lurid  gleam  in  his  eyes  made 
Joseph  almost  afraid  of  him. 

The  keeper  noted  his  impression.  "  He's  to  be  turned  off 
April  8,"  he  said.  "  He  won't  get  no  more  stays,  and  he 
knows  it.  But  they  go  on  hopin'  just  the  same,"  he  con 
cluded,  taking  a  sharp  look  at  Joseph,  who  was  frightfully 
pale. 

Joseph  turned,  walked  to  his  cell,  and  fell  down  on  his 
cot  in  a  deep  swoon. 

In  a  day  or  two  Shiphrah  came  to  see  Joseph ;  and  when 
she  presented  herself  at  the  railing  he  was  shocked,  so 
fearful  had  been  the  ravages  of  racking  toil  and  foul  air 
upon  her  slender  frame.  She  moved  and  talked  like  an  old 
woman ;  and  her  eyes  had  an  apprehensive  look,  as  if  she 
feared  the  taskmaster  behind  her. 

"  Surely,  my  poor  Shiphrah,  I  brought  you  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  sweater  for  nothing.  Why  did  you  fall  back 
into  them  so  readily  again  ?  " 


352  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"  I  was  starving,"  said  the  girl  gloomily.  "  Father  had 
nothing  —  and  long  before  he  died  I  had  to  go  back.  I 
knew  this  man.  I  get  enough  to  eat.  If  it  wasn't  for 
typhus  all  round  us  I  should  be  pretty  comfortable." 

Seventeen  hours  a  day,  and  three  dollars  a  week,  refuse  to 
eat,  and  a  pile  of  unfinished  garments  to  sleep  on  !  Yet 
poor  Shiphrah  saw  such  terrible  misery  near  her  that  by 
comparison  she  considered  herself  "  pretty  comfortable." 

Shiphrah  brought  him  the  news  that  Bathsheba  was  still 
acting,  and  with  success.  Evidently  she  had  repented  of 
her  wild  intentions.  Joseph  was  glad  of  this,  although  he 
had  vowed  that  the  woman  should  never  have  his  thoughts 
more.  "  She  is  good  to  me,"  said  Shiphrah.  "  I  love  her. 
I  do  some  work  for  her,  little  by  little,  when  I  can  steal 
time  from  the  boss.  She  gives  me  theatre  tickets.  I  have 
been  twice :  it  is  all  the  fun  I  have." 

Then  Joseph  begged  Shiphrah  to  accept  Malcha's  invita 
tion  to  go  and  live  in  the  colony,  and  he  spoke  of  David.  A 
thin  red  streak  showed  in  one  of  Shiphrah's  cheeks,  but 
she  resolutely  declined.  "  I  am  no  fit  company  for  your 
people  up  there,  especially  for  David,"  she  said.  "  Let  me 
work  here  till  I  die  with  a  rush  some  day.  That  is  all  I 
ask." 

Shiphrah's  despairing  declaration  might  be  echoed  by 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  poor  victims  in  the  Sweaters' 
Hell. 

The  days  began  to  go  swiftly.  Joseph  learned  that  New 
York  was  more  and  more  deeply  moved  by  his  fate.  Flow 
ers,  money,  books,  baskets  of  food,  came  to  him.  News 
papers  talked  of  him  daily.  Politicians  called  on  him. 
Malchaand  David  and  Ben  Zion  came  and  went,  bright-eyed 
and  hopeful.  The  mysterious  "  stay "  had  been  granted. 
The  cry  for  Joseph's  pardon,  as  for  one  sinned  against, 


CARRYING   THE  CROSS  353 

but  not  sinning,  grew  louder  every  day.  Joseph  founa 
that  he  slept  dreamlessly  each  night.  His  courage  revived. 
One  day  when  he  was  standing  at  the  railing  he  startled 
the  keeper  by  shaking  the  bars  violently. 

"I  guess  they'll  come  down  for  you  pretty  soon  for 
good,"  said  the  rough  fellow,  smiling. 

"  I  begin  to  think  so  too,"  remarked  Joseph. 


854  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE    PASSOVER   SUPPER 

MALCHA  carefully  arranged  the  three  cakes  of  the  "un 
leavened  bread  "  according  to  the  formula,  and  smiled  as  she 
stooped  to  caress  Zipporah,  and  to  ask  her  if  she  re 
membered  what  she  had  to  say  this  first  night  of  the  Pass 
over. 

"  Yes,  little  mother,"  said  the  girl,  clapping  her  hands 
joyfully.  "  See  if  I  don't  know  it  right !  When  the  cup 
is  filled  with  wine  the  second  time,  and  the  Seder  dish  is 
taken  up  from  the  table,  then  I  say,  '  Why  is  this  night 
different  from  all  other  nights  ?  Any  other  night  we  may 
eat  leavened  or  unleavened  bread,  but  on  this  night  only  un 
leavened  bread.  Any  other  night  we  may  eat  any  species 
of  herbs,  but  this  night  only  bitter  herbs.  Any  other  night 
we  do  not  dip  even  once,  but  on  this  night  twice.  On  all 
the  other  nights  we  eat  and  drink,  either  sitting  or  leaning, 
but  on  this  night  we  all  lean.'  .  .  .  See,  little  mother,  I 
have  said  it  so  often  that  I  can't  make  a  mistake !  And 
then  this  is  what  all  you  grown-up  folks  must  say ;  and  I'm 
sure  you'll  forget  some  of  it :  '  Because  we  were  slaves  unto 
Pharaoh  in  Egypt,  and  the  Eternal,  our  God !  brought  us 
forth  from  thence,  with  a  mighty  hand  and  an  outstretched 
arm.  And  if  the  Most  Holy,  blessed  be  He!  had  not 
brought  forth  our  ancestors  from  Egypt,  we  and  our  chil 
dren  and  our  children's  children  had  still  continued  in  bon- 


355 

dage  to  the  Pharaohs  of  Egypt.  Therefore,  although  we 
were  all  wise,  all  of  us  having  knowledge  in  the  law,  it 
nevertheless  is  incumbent  upon  us  to  discourse  on  the  de 
parture  from  Egypt ;  and  all  those  who  largely  discourse  of 
the  departure  from  Egypt  are  to  be  praised.' " 

"Of  course  they  are,"  said  a  mellow,  cheerful  voice, 
which  sent  the  warm  blood  rushing  into  Malcha's  cheeks; 
"  but  do  you  know  that  sometimes  I  think  we  are  not  out 
of  Egypt  yet  ?  " 

It  was  Joseph  who  came  in,  and  placed  his  thin  hand  in 
parental  benediction  upon  the  small  Zipporah's  head  — 
Joseph,  freed  from  his  captivity  by  the  generous  pardon  of 
the  Governor  of  the  State,  who  had  refused  to  see  in  the  young 
labor-leader's  act  the  crime  which  his  enemies  had  attrib 
uted  to  him ;  Joseph,  restored  to  his  work,  and  revived 
and  strengthened  by  the  sympathy  and  helpfulness  of  hun 
dreds  of  all  classes  and  religions  in  the  great  city. 

He  had  grown  paler,  and  he  stooped  a  little,  as  if  his 
burden  had  been  heavy  to  bear.  But  there  was  a  radiance 
on  the  forehead,  a  sparkle  in  the  eyes,  and  a  firmness  at  the 
lips  which  indicated  that  he  possessed  all  his  old  belief  in 
his  mission,  and  all  his  resolution  in  pursuing  it. 

"  What,  Joseph !  "  said  Malcha  reproachfully,  "  do  you 
make  light  of  the  holy  forms  of  our  ancient  religion  ?  " 

He  took  his  wife's  head  in  his  hands,  looked  at  her  smil 
ingly  a  moment,  then  kissed  her  on  her  brow.  "  Didn't  I 
tell  you  before  we  were  married  that  I  was  a  Reformed 
Jew  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  "  If  you  want 
to  see  Seder  carried  to  extremes,  just  go  into  the  flat  on  the 
other  side  of  the  passage.  They  are  all  Orthodox  there, 
and  they  will  go  through  the  entire  ceremony,  if  it  takes 
them  until  sunrise.  But  come !  you  know  that  I  love  the 
old  ways,  and  I  will  sit  and  listen.  It  will  take  my  mind 
off  from  the  horrible  things  I  saw  this  afternoon." 


356  JOSEPH    ZALMONATI 

"What  were  they,  papa?"  said  Zipporah. 

"There  were  so  many  of  them  that  I  cannot  tell  them 
all,"  said  Joseph,  sitting  down  and  taking  the  child  upon 
his  knee.  "But  I  will  tell  you  what  I  saw  in  a  miserable 
room  on  the  third  floor  of  a  tenement  house  in  Chrystie 
Street.  Three  pretty  little  children  in  rags,  and  gathered 
around  a  tin  plate  with  a  few  boiled  beans  on  it.  That 
was  the  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper  of  those  three  starv 
ing,  helpless  ones.  In  a  dark  closet,  without  air,  the  mother 
lay  dying  of  a  slow  fever;  and  the  father  is  dying  in  a  hos 
pital,  where  our  Union  managed  to  get  him  sent.  If  it  didn't 
make  your  heart  bleed  to  look  at  the  poor  children,  with 
the  smallest  one  stretching  out  its  lean  hands  and  crying 
*  Oo !  Oo  ! '  because  it  didn't  get  enough  to  eat,  you  only  had 
to  look  at  the  mother,  without  proper  clothes  to  cover  her, 
and  not  a  cent  in  the  world !  And  why  ?  Because  day  by 
day,  month  by  month,  year  by  year,  for  seven  long  years,  a 
sweater  held  in  slavery  the  poor  husband,  —  who  was  an 
operator  and  could  work  the  machine  well  in  the  sweater's 
hell,  —  and  paid  him  the  wages  of  starvation  for  the  work 
which  three  men  ought  hardly  to  have  done  !  Why  ?  Be 
cause  the  sweater  coined  the  poor  wretch's  blood,  drop  by  drop, 
and  when  he  had  it  all  in  good  red  —  yes,  blood-red  —  gold 
safe  in  his  own  pocket,  he  kicked  the  useless  operator  into 
the  street  to  die !  He  cheated  him  of  his  wages,  he  lied  to 
him,  he  struck  him  !  Oh !  I  say  we  are  not  out  of  Egypt  yet ! " 

Zipporah's  face  was  upturned,  and  she  listened  with  lips 
quivering  and  eyes  flashing.  The  women  came  out  of  the 
kitchen  and  crowded  together  at  the  door  to  hear.  And  an 
old  patriarch  hobbled  forward  from  a  warm  corner,  and 
put  his  wrinkled  hand  to  his  ear. 

"But  that  was  not  all  that  I  saw,"  continued  Joseph. 
"  I  went  out  into  Grand  Street,  and  just  as  I  was  going  to 
climb  the  "  L  "  steps  whom  should  I  see  but  Freier.  He 


THE   PASSOVER    SUPPER  357 

didn't  see  me,  and  I  was  not  anxious  to  enter  into  conver 
sation  with  him.  But  I  noticed  how  well  he  was  dressed, 
and  how  he  rolled  along  with  that  air  of  owning  every 
thing  ;  and  I  saw  his  big  white  lingers  loaded  with  rings, 
and  his  prosperous  leer,  and  how  he  pulled  his  coat  away 
for  fear  it  would  touch  a  poor  devil  of  a  cloakmaker  who 
was  loafing  because  one  of  Freier's  sweaters  had  resented 
his  independence.  And  I  knew  that  it  was  out  of  one  of 
Freier's  shops  that  the  poor  used-up  operative,  whose  chil 
dren  I  had  just  seen  starving,  had  been  kicked,  after  he 
had  been  worked  to  death.  Then  it  seemed  to  me  that  the 
air  was  filled  with  blood,  and  I  hurried  up  and  took  my 
train,  for  fear  that  I  might  run  after  Freier  and  tell  him 
what  I  thought  of  him  !  " 

"  Yes  —  yes,"  said  a  woman  in  the  kitchen  door ;  "  Freier 
is  a  man-eater ;  and  there  are  too  many  like  him.  But 
what  can  poor  folks  do?  When  one  worker  gives  out, 
twenty  of  our  poor  refugees  are  howling  for  his  place. 
The  weak  ones  have  to  go  to  the  wall." 

Joseph's  voice  had  risen  to  a  strident  key,  while  he  was 
reciting  the  horrors  which  he  had  just  seen.  The  women 
stood  appalled  and  trembling,  and  they  were  beginning  to 
cry,  when  the  piping,  quavering  voice  of  the  old  patriarch 
was  heard  repeating  one  of  the  verses  from  the  Passover 
ritual :  " '  For  at  every  time  enemies  rise  against  us  to 
annihilate  us ;  but  the  Most  Holy,  blessed  be  He  !  hath 
delivered  us  out  of  their  hands.' " 

"  Well,  well ! "  said  Joseph,  sinking  down  on  the  little 
sofa  in  front  of  the  Seder  table,  "  don't  let  me  worry  you ; 
but  sometimes  I  feel  the  cruelty,  the  horrible  wickedness, 
of  the  situation  so  that  it  lifts  my  soul  to  revolt.  I  won 
der,"  he  said  with  more  gentleness,  "  if  this  was  not  the 
way  poor  Baumeister  felt  at  times  when  he  gabbled  about 
his  '  party  of  force  ' !  But  where  are  the  others  ?  " 


358  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"They  are  coming  up-stairs  now,"  said  Zipporah.  "I 
hear  'em."  And  she  ran  to  open  the  door. 

"Promise  me  that  you  will  be  calm  to-night,  Joseph," 
said  Malcha  in  a  whisper.  "  Remember  that  these  good 
people  will  get  frightened,  for  they  are  not  used  to  your 
ways." 

"I  will  roar  no  more,"  said  Joseph,  beckoning  Zipporah 
to  come  and  sit  by  him  as  the  company  assembled. 

This  was  the  first  time  Joseph  and  Maloha  had  met 
with  some  old  friends,  well-to-do  merchants  at  home,  but 
suddenly  expelled  from  Moscow  with  only  the  wreck  of 
their  fortunes.  The  two  brothers  and  their  wives  inhab 
ited  a  small  flat  in  a  tenement  house  in  Broome  Street,  and 
the  tiny  rooms  were  filled  with  the  quaint  old  bits  of  fur 
niture  which  they  had  brought  from  their  Russian  home. 

They  had  been  allowed  a  month  in  which  to  settle  up 
their  affairs  before  expulsion;  and  this  gave  them  the 
chance  which  most  of  the  exiles  did  not  have  —  that  of 
taking  some  of  the  household  treasures  with  them.  They 
had  begged  Joseph  and  Malcha  and  the  child  and  David  as 
a  special  favor  to  be  with  them  on  this  first  Passover  night, 
and  Malcha  had  delayed  her  return  to  the  colony  to  ac 
cept  this  friendly  invitation. 

The  two  rooms  of  the  flat  were  spick-and-span  clean,  and 
decorated  with  pictures  and  a  few  Hebrew  books.  The 
table  was  resplendent  with  clean  linen,  and  in  front  of  the 
elder  of  the  two  brothers  were  arranged  on  a  glass  dish 
the  three  unleavened  cakes,  covered  separately ;  and  the  egg, 
the  "  haroseth,"  the  salt  water,  the  shankbone,  the  bitter 
herbs,  and  the  parsley  were  placed  on  the  consecrated  cover. 

A  pillow  was  laid  beside  the  officiator,  who  wore  his 
hat ;  and  opening  the  manual,  after  the  guests  were  seated, 
he  began  rapidly  to  read  the  " sanctification  "  in  alow  voice. 

Meantime  the   other  brother  filled  the  wine-glasses  of 


THE   PASSOVER    SUPPER  359 

peculiar  shape  which  had  been  procured  expressly  for  the 
occasion  ;  and  the  women  bustled  to  and  from  the  kitchen, 
bringing  things  which  had  been  forgotten,  while  the  patri 
arch,  with  one  hand  to  his  ear,  made  gestures  of  approval 
or  dissent  with  the  other,  according  as  the  unction  of  the 
reading  suited  his  fancy. 

Slowly,  yet  not  without  a  certain  innocent  and  seemly 
mirth,  the  ancient  ceremonial  progressed.  After  the  sancti- 
fication  came  the  washing  of  the  hands,  then  the  taking  of 
the  parsley  dipped  in  salt  water.  "  You  don't  eat  enough 
of  it,"  said  the  good  patriarch  querulously.  "A  good  Ortho 
dox  Jew  would  eat  ten  times  as  much  as  that." 

"But,  father,  'tis  so  mortal  bitter,"  said  one  of  the 
women. 

"  All  the  more  reason  to  eat  it,  then  ! "  he  piped. 

Then  came  the  careful  breaking  of  the  middle  one  of 
the  three  cakes,  the  saying  of  the  service,  the  washing  of  the 
hands,  and  the  breaking  of  the  uppermost  cake,  after  which 
the  bitter  herbs,  horseradish,  and  vinegar  were  eaten  in 
commemoration  of  the  bitter  work  which  the  Israelites 
had  to  perform  in  Egypt. 

"  Give  me  a  good  handful,"  said  Joseph,  "  so  that  I  may 
not  forget  —  even  for  a  minute." 

Then  after  the  proper  cups  of  wine  had  been  served  in 
the  appropriate  places  in  the  service,  and  the  haroseth  and 
horseradish  had  left  a  bitter  taste  in  every  one's  mouth, 
the  supper  was  brought  in.  First  came  the  soup,  with  the 
unleavened  nodels  swimming  in  it ;  then  broiled  fish,  and 
finally  some  roast  lamb  and  salad,  of  which  Joseph  ate 
slowly  in  his  grave,  preoccupied  way,  like  one  whose 
thoughts  were  thousands  of  miles  away.  But  all  at  once 
he  said  quaintly, — 

"  If  my  cloakmakers  should  see  me  eating  such  a  meal  as 
this,  they  would  say  that  the  cause  of  organized  labor  is 
lost." 


360  JOSEPH   ZALMONATI 

"Don't  be  too  much  their  slave,  Joseph,"  said  the  brother 
who  was  presiding.  "  You  have  suffered  enough  already. 
Persecution  —  prison  —  and  hunger,  I  dare  say,  now  and 
then,  eh  ?  " 

"  Ah,  well,  I  generally  managed  to  get  a  crust  and  a  sup 
of  tea,  except  in  the  first  days  when  I  was  living  on  apples, 
which  are  not  half  so  filling  as  pickles,  although  they're 
more  genteel  eating." 

"  Sh-sh ! "  said  the  other  brother,  "  some  one  is  at  the 
door." 

"Well,  you  need  not  say  sh-sh,"  said  his  wife;  "we're 
not  in  Russia  any  longer,  and  there's  nothing  to  be 
afraid  of." 

"True,  true;  I  forget.     See  who  it  is." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  David,"  said  Joseph.  "  He  promised  to 
come,  although  he  said  he  might  be  late." 

It  was  David,  but  he  would  not  come  in.  He  had  an 
important  message  for  Joseph — a  message  which  could 
not  wait.  Would  he  come  out  at  once  ? 

"  Here,  here,  you  are  not  eating  enough  of  the  middle 
cake ! "  cried  the  patriarch  fretfully.  "  Bless  me !  what 
would  the  Orthodox  think  if  they  could  see  this  ?  " 

While  the  two  brothers  were  discussing  with  the  patri 
arch  the  true  method  of  serving  the  unleavened  bread  at 
that  particular  point  in  the  repast,  Joseph  went  out  into 
the  passage,  seizing  his  hat  as  he  went  along. 

"  Promise  to  return  in  an  hour,  Joseph,"  cried  Malcha, 
"  no  matter  what  it  is." 

"  I  promise,"  said  Joseph ;  and  when  he  was  in  the  dark 
passage  he  felt  his  hand  gripped  tightly  by  David,  and  one 
of  David's  arms  stole  around  him,  and  "stayed  him  up," 
as  if  he  would  need  support. 

"  What  is  it,  David  ?  "  said  Joseph,  who  felt  a  strange 
presentiment  that  at  last  he  was  to  have  news  of  Bathsheba — 


THE   PASSOVEK    SUPPER  361 

the  first  since  he  had  come  victoriously  out  of  the  "  Tombs," 
with  the  governor's  pardon  in  his  pocket,  and  ten  thousand 
adoring  cloakmakers  at  his  heels. 

"  Come  down-stairs  quick,  and  out  of  the  street,"  said  David. 

When  they  had  crossed  into  another  street  where  but  few 
people  were  coming  and  going  at  that  hour,  David  said,  — 

"  I  have  a  message  from  Bathsheba.  She  is  dying.  If 
she  lives  until  midnight  it  will  be  a  miracle." 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Joseph.     He  felt  his  knees  trembling. 

"It  is  a  verbal  message  ;  but  you  may  be  sure  that  it  is 
correct,  for  Bathsheba  made  the  woman  who  brought  it  to 
me  repeat  it  many  times  before  she  was  satisfied." 

"Well?"  said  Joseph. 

"  It  is  this  :  '  I  send  to  Joseph  the  kiss  of  reconciliation 
and  peace.  Let  him  think  of  me  as  one  who  first  conspired 
against  him,  next  worshipped  him  ;  and  who,  if  she  had  not 
been  cut  down  by  the  way,  would  have  worked  for  him. 
And  whatever  he  has  done  is  right,  and  she  alone  has  been 
blameworthy.'  " 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  said  Joseph  huskily. 

"  In  Forsyth  Street." 

Joseph  caught  David  by  the  arm.  "  Is  it  typhus?  "  he  cried. 

"  Yes." 

At  this  moment  a  figure  darted  out  of  the  mists,  and 
falling  at  Joseph's  feet  grasped  him  about  the  knees.  "  0 
Reb  Joseph,"  it  cried  piteously,  "promise  me  that  you  will 
not  go  to  her ;  swear  that  you  will  not !  It  would  be  your 
death,  and  what  could  we  do  without  you  now  ?  Promise  !  " 

It  was  Ben  Zion. 

"  Get  up,"  said  Joseph,  "  and  don't  make  a  spectacle  of 
yourself.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  fear  typhus  ?  Have  I 
not  lived  next  to  it,  ate  and  drank  among  those  who  were 
soon  to  die  of  it,  tended  those  who  were  dying  of  it? 
Look  at  me !  I  am  typhus  proof  ! " 


362  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  David,  "but  the  innocent  wife  and 
child  whom  you  have  just  left  are  not.  Itemember,  '  Wlio 
sees  the  wife  die  has  assisted  at  the  destruction  of  the 
sanctuary  itself.' " 

"  I  am  not  going  to  Bathsheba,  my  friends.  Why  should 
you  think  that  I  am  ?  " 

"Because,"  said  Ben  Zion  fiercely,  "she  is  a  witch,  and 
who  knows  but  she  sent  that  message  so  that  you  would 
be  tempted  to  go  and  see  her,  and  catch  your  death 
there  ? " 

"  Be  quiet ! "  said  David.  "  Let  me  tell  Bathsheba's 
story,  and  then  if  Joseph  has  a  message  to  send,  he  must 
hasten  to  send  it." 

Ben  Zion  fell  back,  muttering,  — 

"  Well,  well !  these  be  times  indeed,  as  the  fly  said 
when  the  ox  stepped  on  him  !  There  are  none  too  many  of 
us  labor-leaders  now,  and  I  am  not  going  to  see  Joseph 
sacrificed  for  a  silly,  sentimental  play-actress  !  " 

"Bathsheba's  husband  deserted  her,"  said  David,  taking 
Joseph  by  the  arm,  and  walking  with  him  up  and  do\vn 
the  quiet  street.  "  They  quarrelled  while  you  were  in  the 
'  Tombs,'  because  he  had  learned  that  she  had  gone  to  see 
you  at  the  colony,  and  he  fancied  that  you  had  a  plan  for 
running  away  together." 

Joseph  said  nothing.  He  was  thinking  of  the  exquisite 
and  luminous  vision  which  had  hovered  before  him  on  the 
day  when  he  had  left  the  colony  to  deliver  himself  up ;  of 
the  lovely  face  and  the  clouds  of  dusky  hair,  the  lips  and 
eyes  which  spoke  of  slumbering  passion  —  those  adoring 
eyes  which  had  reproached  him  so  cruelly  when  he  had 
repulsed  her  on  the  night  of  the  death  of  Miryam. 

"  Just  then  Shiphrah  was  sewing  for  Bathsheba  from  time 
to  time,  on  her  costumes.  He  knew  it;  and  so  he  knew 
shortly  before  he  decided  to  leave  her  that  Shiphrah  was 


THE   PASSOVER   SUPPER  363 

surreptitiously  working  on  a  cloak  for  Bathsneba.  One 
day  recently  Bathsheba,  not  suspecting  that  he  was  med 
itating  a  vengeance  on  her,  said  that  she  had  not  heard 
anything  of  Shiphrah  for  several  days.  '  I  wish,'  she  said, 
'  that  you  would  go  and  look  up  my  cloak,  for  I  shall  want 
it  at  a  performance  in  a  week  or  so.'  — '  Agreed,'  says  the 
husband,  and  he  goes  off  to  the  sweat-shop  where  Shiphrah 
Avorks.  When  he  gets  there  he  finds  it  closed.  'Why  is 
this  ? '  he  inquires.  Because  there  was  a  typhus  case 
there,  and  the  Board  of  Health  had  closed  the  place,  and 
condemned  all  the  clothing  there  as  infected,  for  a  man 
had  been  struck  down  with  typhus  in  the  place.  But  he 
does  not  care  for  that ;  he  has  come  after  his  property  that 
has  been  paid  for  in  advance,  and  he  will  have  it ;  and 
finally  —  you  know  how  our  poor  people  are  —  they  get 
frightened  at  his  bluster,  and  yield.  He  gets  into  the 
place,  and,  under  a  pile  of  garments  that  just  reeks  with 
infection,  he  finds  the  theatrical  cloak,  which  he  recognizes 
from  his  wife's  description.  '  This  is  mine,'  he  says  with 
an  evil  smile ;  and  if  the  sweater  comes  back  and  makes  a 
fuss,  send  him  to  me  at  this  place/  and  he  gives  a  false 
address.  Then  he  takes  the  cloak  straight  to  Bathsheba, 
and  says,  '  Shiphrah  was  gone,  but  I  managed  to  find  it. 
Very  pretty  it  is,  and  much  good  may  it  do  you.'  And  that 
night  he  goes  out,  and  hasn't  been  heard  of  since.  They 
think  he  has  gone  West.  Bathsheba  tries  on  the  cloak, 
and  at  the  proper  time  she  is  struck  down  with  typhus." 

"  Where  is  Shiphrah  ?  and  how  did  you  learn  all  this  ?  " 
said  Joseph  in  a  trembling  voice. 

"  When  Bathsheba  found  herself  deserted  she  sent  for 
me ;  but  before  I  could  come  the  typhus  had  declared  itself, 
and  the  woman  in  whose  house  she  lives  had  isolated  her ; 
packed  her  away  —  for  fear  the  Board  of  Health  would 
hear  the  story.  Then  Bathsheba  sent  ine  Shiphrah's  ad- 


3  )4  JOSEPH   ZALMONAH 

dress  :  I  hurried  to  it  and  learned  the  story.  Nothing  was 
to  be  found  of  Shiphrah  :  she  had  disappeared,  as  they  dis 
appear  in  that  sweater  world ;  and  the  scared  folk  in  the 
neighborhood  say  that  the  infected  cloak  was  da^erous 
enough  to  kill  fifty  women." 

"  Did  Bathsheba  know  of  her  husband's  vengeance  ?  " 

"  She  suspected  it  when  she  was  taken  ill ;  and  when  she 
heard  my  story  from  the  nurse,  who  has  been  true  to  her, 
she  gave  herself  up  as  lost.  And  to-night  is  the  end,  Joseph. 
Will  you  send  her  a  word,  for  she  has  come  out  of  delir 
ium,  they  say,  and  is  now  sinking  swiftly." 

"  And  why  should  anything  stay  me  from  going  to  her  ?  " 
cried  Joseph  passionately. 

Ben  Zion  sprang  forward.  "  Reb  Joseph,"  he  said, 
"  you  '11  have  to  kill  me  before  you  can  go  to  that  woman. 
She  is  a  witch." 

Joseph  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  David,  with  his  fine 
sympathies,  Ben  Zion,  with  his  ruder  ones,  both  felt  that 
a  terrible  struggle  was  taking  place  in  the  great  heart. 
But  at  last  he  spoke. 

"  Tell  Bathsheba  that  I  wish  her  eternal  peace.  Tell  her 
that  all  is  forgiven  —  and  that  she  should  be  glad  to  go  up 
out  of  Egypt  into  the  promised  land  !  No  —  no  —  not 
that ;  tell  her  peace  —  eternal  peace." 

His  voice  broke.  David  hurried  him  back  toward  the 
Broome  street  house. 

"You  have  won  your  battle  at  last,  Joseph,"  he  said. 
And  although  Ben  Zion  did  not  say  it  he  felt  it. 

Then  they  hastened  away,  and  left  him  alone.  It  was 
better  so. 

He  looked  upward  before  he  went  into  the  house.  The  in 
finite  stars  were  shining ;  the  mist  had  vanished ;  the  blue 
sky  was  beautifully  serene  —  but  so  far  —  so  very  far 
away.  Joseph  stretched  up  his  arms  as  if  he  were  grasp- 


THE   PASSOVER    SUPPER  365 

ing  at  the  immeasurable  spaces ;  but  they  mocked  him  with 
their  vastness,  they  scorned  his  yearning. 

In  the  darkened  passage  and  up  the  unlit  stairs  he  groped 
his  way  back  to  the  peaceful  Passover  festival.  The 
patriarch  was  declaiming  garrulously  about  the  exact  period 
at  which  the  consecrated  brandy  should  be  tasted.  But  in 
a  corner  Malcha  and  the  women  were  talking  about  Bau- 
meister  and  his  sad  fate.  "  Why  not  have  his  poor  child 
sent  to  the  colony  ?  "  said  Malcha.  "  It  would  be  looked 
after  there." 

"  Ah,  here  is  Joseph  !  "  the  women  cried.  "  Ask  his 
advice  about  it." 

"  How  pale  you  are,  Joseph  !  "  said  Malcha.  "  You  look 
as  if  you  had  seen  a  ghost.  Oh,  I  hope,"  she  said  in  a 
whisper,  as  he  came  closer,  "  that  you  haven't  been  near 
any  of  those  typhus  people." 

"  Oh  dear  no !  But  you  must  remember  that  I  have  not 
had  much  fresh  air  lately." 

"Why,  open  the  window,"  said  one  of  the  brothers. 
"  Father  don't  mind,  do  you,  father  ?  " 

"  Bless  ye,  no !  Read  on,  son,  read  on,"  said  the  patri 
arch  impatiently.  And  the  reader,  still  pursuing  the  cere 
monial,  read,  " '  And  the  children  of  Israel  sighed  by 
reason  of  the  bondage,  and  they  cried,  and  their  complaint 
came  up  unto  God.' " 

Joseph  had  moved  to  the  opened  window,  and  sat  by  it, 

/looking   up    at  the   stars.     Half  an  hour  afterwards,  and 

just  as  he  was  about  to  come  away,  it  seemed  to  him  that 

all  the  stars  grew  dim,  and   he  sprang  up  and  uttered  a 

faint  cry. 

That  was  the  moment  when  Bathsheba  died. 


THE   END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILf 

II  I    IIUUBUI 


